


A World Of Nightmares

by DysfunctionalRequest



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Hurt/Comfort, Jack frost powerful, Nightmares, Protective Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Temporary Amnesia, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 51,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21524671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DysfunctionalRequest/pseuds/DysfunctionalRequest
Summary: No dreams. No hope. No memories. No wonder. No guardians. Nightmares. Chaos. Fear. Danger. The Nightmare King. This is the world that Jack wakes up in. All he wants to know is what happened.
Relationships: E. Aster Bunnymund & Jack Frost, Jack Frost & Nicholas St. North, Jack Frost & Sanderson Mansnoozie, Jack Frost & Toothiana
Comments: 12
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well hi guys I’m uploading this from fanfiction.net for all ya’ll to enjoy:)  
> I wrote this a while again so quality...not so good as now but hey :)

Prologue:

The wind howled furiously and shadows grew across the cold tarmac as horses, made out of black sand, crept out of the trees. Their hooves made no sound as they advanced closer and their their neighing echoed into the cold, night air. Five figures stepped away from the horses as they came closer until their backs pressed against each other. The silver rays of moonlight shone upon them, revealing the many cuts and wounds that were littered across their bodies. It had been the perfect ambush.

A strange figure rose out of the shadows as if he was rising out of water; his yellow eyes cut into the blackness of the night. He began to chuckle cruelty as he saw his enemies, cornered and bleeding. His nightmares began to whine louder, sensing their master's excitement and the nightmare king laughed again, breathing in the crisp night air as the wind howled around him. It had been the perfect ambush.

In his pale hand a long knife formed out of the shadows, made out of pure darkness; its point was sharp and covered in a strange black liquid.

"Oh my…" Pitch Black said, a thin smile forming on his lips, "why such long faces?"

One of the figures, who was leaning heavily on a shepherd's crook, bravely took a small step forward; a larger hand brushed against his and the spirit looked back to see another pair of blue eyes once filled with wonder, now with worry. A brief, reassuring smile flickered on the winter spirit's face for a second and then he turned back to the yellow eyes, meeting them with icy blue ones. The wind whistled again and blew the white locks away from his eyes and the spirit glared at the Boogeyman with hatred. This spirit was Jack Frost, bringer of winter and fun- and he wasn't ready to be defeated.

"What do you want?" Jack shouted angrily, standing a little straighter. Pitch grinned and his horses neighed again, swarming closer. The other guardians stepped back again but the spirit stayed where he was, refusing to back down.

"I like your sharpness, Jack." Pitch narrowed his amber eyes, "it would be useful to have that kind of sharpness in my nightmare army…"

Shouts of rage cane from the other guardians and a large paw took hold of Jack's blood-stained sleeve, pulling him away urgently; the spirit gladly followed Bunny's tug and for the first time he worried about his own safety. The nightmare king dropped his smile, however, and sighed.

"But I know that won't work anymore…" he said and walked closer to the guardians, keeping his eyes locked onto Jack's. The Boogeyman ran a long, boney finger across the blade he held in his hand and his smile dropped. The wind suddenly stopped roaring and the horses grew silent.

"What I want…" Pitch murmured, suddenly seizing Jack's chin; the spirit tried to pull away desperately and the guardian tried to help, but the Boogeyman refused to let go, and dug his sharp nails into his pale skin, drawing blood.

"What I want…is Jack Frost's blood soaked on my blade!" Pitch abruptly let go and pushed the spirit away, twisting his knife. The guardians immediately surrounded Jack; the spirit shrank away even further, his eyes wide and fearful.

"Never!" Tooth shouted and clenched her fists; Sandy pulled out a golden dream whip, Bunny clutched his boomerangs and raised them in the air, and North drew his swords, pointing them at Pitch. The nightmare king growled, glaring at them angrily.

"Attack!" He screamed to his nightmare army, and the horses began to charge towards the guardians, neighing in high pitched, excited tones.

Jack watched as his friends wearily readied themselves for the upcoming attacks, and he realised, with a jolt, that this may be their last battle.

Or maybe just his last battle.

Suddenly everything seemed to move in slow motion: the charging horses, the shouts and battle cries, Pitch, laughing as his nightmares raced past him. It all seemed unreal.

He didn't bother to prepare himself as the nightmare horses began to pounce on him. He didn't bother to lift up his staff. He didn't bother to try and defend himself. All he did was watch the guardians as they struggled in battle.

The wind howled again and small snowflakes began to fall from the night sky as Jack began to slowly walk forward, towards Pitch without looking up. His limbs felt heavy, and the wounds he had gathered started to make themselves known on his body again. All he wanted to do was run away; run away from the fight, away from his death- he wanted to go back home, to the Pole, and watch as North made some more toys for Christmas. For once he wished he was a coward.

But he knew that couldn't happen.

Jack caught sight of Pitch among his army, staring back at him with amber eyes gleaming smugly. He knew what Jack was going to do and the spirit cursed himself for being so predictable. He turned his gaze towards his friends, who were loosing badly and getting trampled on by nightmares and it filled him with a new kind of determination among his dread.

"Stop!" Jack yelled. The horses immediately sprang off the guardians and re-formed the intimidating circle. Pitch grinned and twisted the blade in his hand again; the moonlight refined its metal edge and sharp point. Jack started at the blade and closed his eyes.

"I'll do it." He whispered, "I'll do it."

"No." Bunny muttered. "No!" He tried to leap forward but the horses pinned him down, and they did the same to the other guardians. The pooka's cries faded from Jack's ears and was replaced with the wind whistling in his ears; it soothed him, strangely, and he no longer felt his heart pounding inside him. To him, everything became peaceful and the blunt truth was numb in his brain.

Jack began to walk forward to his death, keeping his eyes on only the nightmare king until he was only a few centimetres away from him and felt his cold breath against his cheek. He closed his eyes and focused on the wind.

A sudden pain surged through his whole body, stemming from his stomach, and the spirit screamed a long, piecing scream.

"No!"

"Jack!"

"You monster!"

"Jack!"

Jack screamed again and instinctively clamped his hands on his stomach, looking down to see a knife blade firmly stabbed inside. He tried to stop the blood gushing out of his wound but it only caused his hands to be covered in the red substance. His breaths started to come in gasps and he didn't even realise he had collapsed onto the ground until he felt gentle hands pick him up carefully. Jack coughed and forced himself to open his eyes so he could see the guardians that were looking down to him, faces etched with fear and worry.

"Will…will you stay with me?" Jack spluttered in barely a whisper to North, who was the one holding him. The spirit didn't hear the Cossack's answer and began to cough again weakly, a little dribble of blood spilling out of his mouth. Black spots invaded his vision and his breath hitched.

What was happening?

Why was everything growing darker?

"I'm…sorry…" Jack murmured and closed his eyes, falling into the strong lull of sleep.

—

Jack Frost didn't die.

The guardians fled the battle they had been forced to fight in and performed emergency surgery on the spirit. However, soon after the spirit fell into a deep coma, intended to be full of nightmares.

One of Pitch's last tricks.

The nightmare king wanted Jack Frost to suffer if he was going to live, and what better way would that be than to trap him in a endless nightmare? That had been the black liquid's purpose when he spread it carefully on the blade's point. To make a never-ending torture.

But Pitch had underestimated the sandman's power.

Though unable to bring dreams to Jack, Sandy managed to stop the nightmares and put the spirit into a dreamless sleep. The guardians waited for Jack to wake up, but he never did.

A few days later, Pitch invaded the North Pole, desperate for revenge on Jack Frost. The guardians decided to hide the spirit in the one place that the nightmare king would never search.

In his rage, Pitch sent out his army to ambush the guardians that remained; they fought the best they could but without the familiar winter spirit fighting beside them. And so they lost the battle, and the Boogeyman had finally won.

Now?

Darkness has taken over the world and nightmares rule dreams. Pitch made sure that Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and the Sandman ceased to exist; the children began to stop believing and the world has lost hope.

But the nightmare king still isn't satisfied; he still hasn't found Jack Frost and kill him like he intended to. He had searched the globe, but has not found him.

The places that the guardians once called home have been abandoned, and the guardians themselves have disappeared.

Only they, and the man in the moon, know where Jack sleeps and are desperately hoping that he will awaken.

But the spirit of winter still sleeps, oblivious of the world changing around him.


	2. Chapter 2

Present day:

The woods surrounding Burgess lake were quiet; in the day, children would fill them, playing and running, but at night, no one dared to step inside them in fear of something unknown.   
The forest’s main attraction- the thing that kept making children return to it- was the frozen lake that was in the centre of the trees. The children would gaze into its murky depths, trying to figure out why it stayed frozen for so long, but they would never see anything because the ice was so thick. One time, they tried to break the ice- they stamped on it, threw stones and sticks and they even bravely stepped right in the centre and began to jump and hit it simultaneously- but it didn’t even crack.   
Some of the children believed it was haunted. Others thought it had been frozen for centuries. But no one was sure. As long as they could remember, the lake had been covered in ice, but in never had snowed where they lived.  
It was a cloudless night; the moon shone brightly, illuminating the mysterious lake through the trees. The ice shimmered in its light, but refused to reveal what lay below it. The wind blew the trees gently; the only sounds was the leaves rustling against another.   
Then, the sound of ice cracking slowly.  
The cracking grew louder and quicker until it caved in completely, revealing murky, dark water.   
Suddenly, a teen burst to the water’s surface, coughing out a mouthful of the dirty liquid. Gasping, the teen scrambled out of the water and sat the ice surrounding him with his eyes closed.  
The teen had white hair which had grown to his shoulders; he wore a blue hoodie and brown trousers, which were worn and moth-eaten. The boy opened his eyes again quickly and plunged his arm back into the water; after a few seconds he pulled it out again, grasping a wooden Shepard’s crook in his hand which flowed blue with his touch. Still breathing heavily, the winter teen began to take in his surroundings, shuffling further away from the hole in the middle of the ice. He closed his eyes again, inhaling the cold, night air and ran a trembling hand through his hair. The teen suddenly froze, holding his hair in his fingers and pulled it; he stared at his white locks for a few minutes, his blue eyes following the long strands until they stopped at his shoulders.   
“Wha?” The spirit’s voice was faint and cracked; the teen rubbed his throat, confused at how raw it sounded. He let go of his hair and let it hang limp.   
What happened?  
Suddenly, a silver beam of moonlight shone over the spirit, illuminating him among the trees; the teen squinted in the sudden light and raised a hand to try and block it out.  
“Jack Frost.” A strong, authoritative voice rang in the spirit’s head. It was a voice that he had only heard once before, the first voice he had ever heard.  
“Moon?” Jack whispered, his voice still weak, as he looked up at the moon quickly. “Why? Why are you talking to me now? After all these years...” Jack tried to stand but his legs collapsed beneath him, causing the ice to crack slightly.  
“Careful.”  
“Who are you to tell me to be careful?” Jack snapped, looking away again. “Why are you talking to me?” He felt a burning hate for the man in the moon- after all those years of silence he decided to speak now? Why?  
“There is something you MUST know.”  
“What?” Jack looked at the moon again, getting used to the bright light.  
“Pitch has taken over this world with darkness.”  
“What?!” Jack repeated, his voice beginning to grow stronger. “How?”  
“He has captured the guardians whilst you were trapped in a coma. The guardians put you in this ice to keep you safe.”  
“But how come he’s done it so quickly? How long have I been trapped in the ice?!” Jack heard the moon sigh sadly; the spirit felt his anger rush back to him. He didn’t want his pity! “Tell me!”   
The moon didn’t answer.  
“Tell me!!!” Jack yelled, glaring at the moon. He heard him sigh again.  
“You have been asleep for over 70 years, Jack Frost.”  
Jack froze, his eyes widening. He then laughed shakily, turning away from the moon again.  
“No way…” he closed his eyes. “This is some kind of prank…that’s it! Bunny must’ve hid me in this ice, and found a way to make my hair longer…it’s just a big prank! I’m gonna kill that Kangaroo…” Jack tried to stand again, but failed, his legs unable to hold his weight yet.   
“You know that isn’t true. It is essential that you accept the truth now.”  
“No, no, no…” Jack clamped his hands over his ears, trying to shut the moon’s voice out. “Go away! That’s not true! How could’ve I been asleep so long?! What happened?!” His hands moved to rake his fingers through his long hair.  
“You must remember, and accept the truth.”  
Jack closed his eyes again, forcing his mind to go back into the past. Nothing…nothing!   
“Jack!”  
“You need to wake up!”  
“Please…”  
“Fight it, Frostbite!”  
He remembered desperate voices. Screaming. His screaming. The knife. Pitch. The battle. Waiting for death.  
His breathing began to speed up again as he remembered the pain that he had experienced; the guardian’s cries of grief when the blade was stabbed through his stomach and out of his back. He remembered their faces, looking down at him sadly, as his vision began to fade into blackness.  
“What happened that day was cruel.” The moon said as Jack had memories flash into his mind. The horses that formed a circle around them. Trapping them.  
“It should’ve never happened.”  
Then Pitch had came…he was smiling, saying he would not stop until Jack Frost was dead…  
“I wished that I could’ve helped. But I couldn’t. I had to watch and hope that you would all be alright.”  
But the guardians refused to hand him over, and Pitch got angry…  
“But you must learn to use this as a strength.”  
He ordered his nightmares to attack…but he didn’t want his friends to die protecting him…  
“Do not forget the past. Use it as a weapon. You must move on, and not think of how you could’ve stopped it from happening.”  
So he sacrificed himself, in hope that the guardians would live. Then…  
Darkness.  
“There is hope.”  
Jack’s eyes snapped open and a few tears leaked out of them.   
“How? How can there be hope?!” The spirit wiped the tears away fiercely, glaring at the moon once more. “North…Bunny…Tooth…Sandy…they’re gone…” his voice cracked.   
“They are still alive.”  
“Alive?! Where?!” Jack’s eyes sparkled with hope and he stood up successfully, using his staff as a crutch. He heard the moon laugh fondly of his antics.  
“I am proud of you. You are worthy of your guardian title.” Jack looked at the moon, no longer with the harsh glare but with a small amount of forgiveness.   
“The guardians have been captured by Pitch and imprisoned with his strongest nightmares. Are you willing to risk everything to save them?”  
“Yes.” Jack replied firmly, full of determination.  
“Are you willing to chase the darkness to each end of the earth to rescue the ones you love?”  
“Yes.”  
“Are you willing to sacrifice your own safety for another’s freedom?”  
“Yes.”  
“I thought so. You have not let me down.”  
Jack gave a brief smile at the moon and stood straighter, no longer feeling the need of his staff to keep him standing.   
“The path that lies ahead of you is going to be hard. You will be tested in every way possible, and you will discover new heights of your power. Good luck, Jack Frost. I will always be watching over you.”  
The moon’s voice faded in his mind and the light shining on him dimmed, leaving him alone in the darkness of the night. The spirit gritted his teeth determinedly and turned away from the moon, slowly walking off the ice.   
The information that he had just learnt was still filling his head.  
Seventy years?!  
Jack groaned out loud and ran a hand across his face. How could he have let this happen? The guardians were now imprisoned all because he couldn’t wake up from a stupid coma.   
You must move on, and not think of how you could’ve stopped it from happening.  
Jack finally made it off the ice and felt the grass weave into his toes and it comforted him to know that something was normal. He sat down again, pulling the green blades out of the earth subconsciously.   
“What now?” The spirit said to himself, sighing. “I’m not ready to go facing Pitch yet…I’m not strong enough.”   
You will discover new heights of your power…  
What had the moon meant by that? Was it possible that he hadn’t reached his full potential, after 300- no, over 370- years? He groaned again and raked his hand through his hair, wanting things to be simple again.   
“The Pole.” Jack suddenly had an idea; where else would he go when he was unsure of anything? The North Pole, obviously. Plus, it would help him see exactly what happened whilst he was asleep. He wasn’t even sure if the Pole even existed anymore.  
“Wind?” Jack called quietly, standing up quickly. A sudden rush of air surrounded itself around the spirit, making the trees rustle loudly. Jack smiled, knowing that he still had his oldest friend.  
“Could you take me to the Pole, please? I can’t see too well when it’s this dark.” The wind picked the spirit up gently and lifted him high into the air. Jack laughed with joy, letting himself forget the great task that lay ahead of him.  
“Good luck, Jack Frost.” The moon’s voice echoed in his mind again, louder than before. “Be brave. Keep safe. Your friend’s lives lie in your hands now. I know they will be safe.”


	3. Chapter 3

The first signs of dawn were beginning to show across the frozen landscape; thin, golden rays of light were stretching across the thick layers of snow that covered the ground in the North Pole.   
Jack looked at the small strings of sunlight and was instantly reminded of Sandy. The golden man was always letting the spirit watch his dream ropes as they looked for children to give dreams, as he liked to fly beside them. With a sharp pang, Jack realised that he could no longer enjoy simple things like spending time with Sandy- not until he found where Pitch was hiding them. Only then could the world be turned right again- the moon had told him so.  
A large, wooden house that lay in the middle of the snowy wasteland pulled Jack from his thoughts; his eyes widened when he realised that he had arrived at last. He urged the wind to go faster and smiled at the familiar sight. Memories flooded through his mind of all the good times he had spent at the Pole; he smiled wider after thinking of a particularly funny memory which resulted in Bunny’s ears getting frozen to a wall, unable to move.   
“At least I’ve still got all my memories.” Jack’s smile faded as he landed on the Workshop’s porch with a loud thump. Usually, Jack would easily hear the loud yelling of yetis or the sounds of things breaking because of the clumsy elves. What made Jack stop was the fact that he could hear nothing coming from inside the house. The spirit knocked on the door gently.  
No answer.   
He knocked harder and waited a few seconds before opening the door slowly.  
“Hello?” Jack said and looked around, squinting in the semi-darkness that filled the room. He saw nothing but furniture that he had known so well, now covered in webs and dust.  
“What?” The spirit whispered, walking inside and shutting the door after him. Floorboards squeaked under his weight as he began to explore the abandoned home. Along with dusty furniture, the Pole had clouded windows and hoof marks across its walls.   
“No…” Jack could imagine the chaos that the nightmare horses would’ve caused when they ambushed the Workshop. He could practically hear the yells of battle and fear. He could see North, in the middle of it all, ready to fight with his two swords.  
Jack flew the rest of the length across the room and pushed the next door open.   
Suddenly the spirit was pinned to the floor by heavy arms, his staff sliding across the floor. He yelled as the weight pressed down harder. Quickly, Jack flipped onto his back and pushed the weight off using his back legs. Through the darkness, he could make out a big, bulky figure get slammed against the wall with a grunt. The spirit grabbed his staff before another mysterious shale could snatch it away; it immediately glowed brightly, giving him some kind of light.   
“Enough!” Jack yelled and slammed his weapon on the ground, where ice shot out of the end and covered the floor. He stood in the middle of the room, panting, and shifted his gaze to the thing that he had knocked over a few seconds ago, which was now getting up slowly; through the warm, blue glow of the ice, Jack managed to get a better look at his attacker. He saw its thick fur in more detail, and realised who it was.  
“Phil?” He asked. The yeti’s eyes blinked at him for a moment, then a smile appeared under his hair. “Phil!” Jack ran over to him and helped him up, smiling.   
“Sorry…you scared me…” Jack rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. The yeti suddenly pulled the spirit into a warm hug; Jack froze but then hugged back, glad there was someone that he still knew.   
“Glad to see you too.” He muttered; the yetis around him began to recognise the spirit and cheered. “Why did you attack me? I’m no threat!”  
The lights flickered on and, at last, Jack could see properly. Phil released his hug and pointed to the spirit’s hair.  
“Oh, Yeah…” Jack fingered the long strands and grinned. “Do you like the new look? It’s called ‘overgrown’.” The yeti laughed gruffly and grunted something in his language.  
“What? Oh-“ Jack’s smile faded. “I just woke up…I never realised how long…”  
Phil patted him on the shoulder and grunted something else.  
“Yeah- thanks.” Jack’s smile returned. “I’m starving. And thirsty, too.” He muttered more to himself, only just noticing how dry his throat was. Phil nodded and walked over to the kitchen, where and the other yeti followed. Jack watched them go, and the smile dropped from his face again. The yetis that he just saw seemed to be the only survivors of whatever happened at the Pole- he could’ve helped…protected them…but he was stuck in a coma. Jack spotted a door which was concealed behind the globe and walked forwards to it curiously. He remembered that room; North had always said that it was out of bounds to him as it was full of things he had collected over his adventures. He said that it was too dangerous for a inexperienced spirit to go alone inside. Jack slowly grabbed the door handle and hesitated, feeling the cool metal against his fingers. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this- after all, some of the things inside could possibly kill him. But curiosity took over his reasoning, and the spirit pushed the door open quietly, shutting it behind him.   
Like all the other rooms in the Pole, it was badly lit; Jack tried the light switch next to him but nothing happened- the light in the middle of the room gave a weak flicker then switched off again with a small click.   
“Great…” Jack muttered and, once again, slammed his staff onto the dusty floorboards, creating frost that crawled along the floor and up the walls, glowing brightly.   
“Whoa…” the spirit could now see many unusual objects resting on tables or hung on walls proudly; the first one that caught his eye was a blue, overgrown plant which had overflowed from its plant pot and was now hanging off the table and close to the floor. On its many stems, red flowers had bloomed with layers of petals. Jack swore they turned towards him as he moved closer, and he could hear quiet whispers coming from them. The spirit crouched down and carefully touched one of the mysterious flowers with his finger; the flower suddenly began to glow a warm red and others followed its example.   
“Wow…” Jack breathed, stroking the flower again before standing up fully and searching the room for anything else that caught his eye.   
On one of the walls there was a golden sword which had strange carvings on its blade. Jack moved closer and stared at it, mouth-open; the markings were actually drawings of strange animals and people.   
Below the sword was a small box which was on a worn desk. The box was white and had silver stars painted on it. It was fastened with a silver clasp, the same colour as the stars that were decorated onto it. Jack undid the clasp and, after some hesitation, opened the box and looked inside; he gasped aloud when he saw what was inside.  
“Stardust!” The spirit said and picked some out of the box in between his fingers. The dust was a silver-blue colour which shimmered in his grasp. The spirit placed the dust back into its box and sealed it, looking for anything else which was interesting around the room.  
“What is that?” Jack muttered to himself, gazing at a set of amour that was on the opposite side of the room in a glass cabinet. The armour was completely black with strange shapes carved into his its metal. Next to it was a matching black hooded cape, hanging on a silver hanger.  
“Cool…” Jack tried to open the case, but it was sealed shut.   
A sudden grunt came from behind the spirit and he jumped, spinning around quickly; however, it was only Phil with a bottle of water and some cookies.   
“Oh…it’s only you.” Jack smiled, looking at the food and drink. “Thanks!” Phil grunted a response and handed them to him. The spirit began to drink the bottle of water as he looked back at the armour.  
“What’s that?” The spirit asked, nodding his head towards it. Phil grunted something. Jack’s eyes widened and pulled the bottle away from his dry lips.  
“Shadow armour?” He breathed. “What does it do? Why has North got it?” The yeti grunted something else.   
“Wait- so this armour is what North wore to slay rouge nightmares?! Wow!” Jack drank some more water before carrying on. “Why is it so special?” Phil replied in his language and the spirit’s eyes widened again.  
“Makes you immune from some shadow attacks…and helps you blend in with the shadows…cool.” Jack bit into a cookie and began to walk away after Phil had gestured him to leave the room. Before he went, he muttered, “North was awesome when he was younger…” 

—

Jack climbed up the wooden stairs leading to the top floor of the Pole, making frost creep on the banister. He wanted to visit his old room again, even if it was dusty like the rest of the Workshop. He reached the top of the stairs and he immediately saw a blue door with a snowflake hand-painted on it by North. Jack could remember easily when he first got a room in the North Pole: after accidentally telling North he slept outside, the Cossack made it his mission to create a place where Jack could call home. After a few days banned from the Pole, North told Jack he could return as long as he went upstairs first. The spirit agreed, and it was then he first saw the blue door, staring back at him.  
Jack opened the door slowly and stepped inside, expecting to find it as damaged as the rest of the Pole.   
But that wasn’t what he saw at all.  
Instead he saw that it was exactly as he had left it the day he went to battle for the last time: the walls were still covered in frost, icicles still hung from the ceiling and his mini ice sculptures of animals still lay on his bedside table. The only thing that was different was the fact that four single flowers lay on the bed- all of them were blue and they were in a line with white ribbons tied around their stalks. Somehow, after all this time, these flowers had stayed preserved as a memorial on his bed.  
Jack froze, staring at the flowers for a few minutes. His staff dropped from his hand with a loud clunk and a single tear had fell from one eye.   
“They…they did this for me?” More tears followed the first, and soon Jack was sobbing uncontrollably. He knelt on the floor and hugged himself; everything that he had to do was crashing down on him and he wished that he had North to tell him that he was going to be alright.   
Or Tooth to tell him that he could do it.  
Or Sandy to tell him that he would be watching out for him.  
Or Bunny, to tell him to stop whining because he would help him.   
But they were gone. Because he wasn’t there to protect them.  
“I’m sorry!” Jack cried out, sobbing harder. “I’m so sorry! I could’ve been there to help you! But now your gone!”   
The spirit knelt there, on the dusty floorboards, for a few minutes expressing the raw emotions that had been shut off for so long.   
Suddenly, a loud crash, followed by a chorus of panicked yells came from the floor below him. Jack strained up, grabbing his staff and wiping his eyes. Another bellow, in the yeti language, confirmed Jack’s fear:  
“Attack! Hide- everyone! A lone nightmare is attacking!!!”


	4. Chapter 4

Jack sprang up and wiped his tears fiercely whilst grabbing his staff in one hand. More yeti cries and crashes came from below, and he heard Phil’s voice among them, trying to get the other yeti safe. The spirit gripped his staff harder and flung himself out of his room at speeds even Bunny would be impressed with.   
Jack rushed into the room which held the most noise and collided with Phil. The yeti grumbled something to the spirit and purposefully blocked his path.  
“I am ready!” Jack raked his free hand through his hair and tried to push past, but it was impossible. Another crash, followed by a high-pitched whine, sounded from the other room. Phil said something else more urgently.  
“But I can deal with it!” Phil picked Jack up by his battered hoodie and began to walk away. He said something else.   
“How can you keep going on like this! You can’t just flee! I can do this!” The spirit managed to slip out of the yeti’s grasp and tried to slip out of the door; Phil blocked the way again, shouting at him.   
“I need to do this!” Jack yelled back. “I can do this.” Phil looked back at the spirit and saw the determination in his blue gaze. The yeti let his arm go limp at his side and Jack smiled.   
“Thanks. I’ll win, don’t worry.” He reassured and walked into the room, his staff glowing brightly.   
Immediately he saw a nightmare in the middle of the room, pounding its hooves on the floor and breaking the floorboards. The horse was twice the size of Jack and instead of the amber eyes the spirit had grown used to, it had blazing red ones. Its mane was spiked and its dark figure now glistened red as well as black.   
The spirit backed against a wall, trying to get behind the nightmare to hit it from behind. No chance.  
The nightmare suddenly turned its head around and spotted Jack staring back at it; the horse neighed and charged into him with its eyes blazing. Jack dodged quickly and spun around, shooting ice shards in the direction it was in. The nightmare shrieked and darted to the spirit’s left; whist Jack was turning, the nightmare kicked him with its hooves, sending him flying across the room.  
“I guess they have gotten stronger…” Jack muttered, spitting out blood from his mouth. He didn’t get a chance to recover before the horse kicked again, at his shoulder, and the spirit heard a sharp crack before a hot pain erupted. Hissing, Jack kicked back, aiming for its stomach. His feet landed successfully on his target, and the horse skidded across the floor, snorting; Jack sprang up, clutching his shoulder, and shot another blast of ice at the nightmare. It dodged, however, and charged into the spirit again. Jack tried to avoid the attack but the horse- he was thrown onto the floor again violently. Black hooves began to trample him, and it took all of his energy to move his head out of the way. The horse gave another furious neigh and bit down on Jack’s neck; the spirit screamed as pain spread through his body; he could feel the nightmare bite harder and shake his neck in its jaws. He coughed as more blood leaked from his mouth. Thinking quickly, Jack swiftly stabbed his staff into the horse’s own neck and twisted it until it came out the other side. Finally, with a sharp cry, the teeth released his neck and the spirit rolled out from underneath the horse as it began to collapse. Panting, Jack dragged himself over to the wall as he watched his attacker began writhing on the ground as frost spread across its body, digging into the nightmare sand. It then lay still. The spirit closed his eyes, breathing deeply and let himself go limp.   
“Fuck.” He slurred; Phil suddenly burst through the doors again, accompanied by some other yeti. One of them yelled something and Jack opened one eye to see two of them running over to him- the last one was cautiously moving closer to the icy remains of the nightmare that he had fought.   
A sudden wave of dizziness hit the spirit and he closed his eye again, groaning. He was faintly aware of Phil talking to him and asking questions.  
“I beat it. Told you I could…” Jack muttered, smiling. The yeti said something else which he couldn’t catch to his colleague and scooped the spirit up without seeking permission. Jack yelled as another pain shot through his shoulder.   
“My…shoulder…” he gasped in explanation, “…it hurts…a lot…” Phil nodded and then began to carry Jack down numerous hallways. The spirit vaguely recognised the walls that he was passing but drowsiness began to take over again, and the last thing he was aware of was the warm blood running down his neck and the faint grumbles coming from Phil. 

—

Jack woke up, interrupted by his sleep, because a irritating itch had spread across his neck. Moaning, the spirit moved to scratch it with his hand, only to find fabric instead of skin.  
“Huh…” Jack opened his eyes properly from the tired squint they were at and found himself staring up at a white ceiling which made his head ache.   
“Holy shit!” He cried out suddenly, “How long have I been asleep this time?!”   
A few grunts answered, and a familiar yeti came into his vision.   
“Phil!” Jack cried, trying to sit up. He grinned in relief. “So I haven’t been asleep that long…Good.” Phil rolled his eyes and asked a question.   
“I’m good…feel a lot better…my shoulder doesn’t hurt anymore!” The yeti grumbled something else. Jack nodded. “Err…can I get up now?” Phil shook his head firmly and the spirit groaned.  
“Please?”   
“Please?”   
“Please?”  
“Please?”   
“Aw come on!” Jack tried to get up again but his other arm was in a blue sling. Still, after a moments hesitation, the spirit began to slowly straighten himself up until he was sitting in his bed. Phil watched, amused. Jack caught his look and scowled at him.  
“See- I’m fine!” To demonstrate, Jack waved his uninjured arm and kicked his legs. “See?”   
Phil rolled his eyes and gave up trying to keep the teen in bed; punching the air in victory, Jack slid out of bed on unsteady feet and grabbed the staff that was leaning against the wall. Phil watched him, smiling slightly, and then grumbled something.  
“What do you mean, ‘why so eager?’” The spirit asked, grinning. “I just wanna start training!” The yeti let out a surprised yell and held out a hand to stop him. Jack pushed it away and weaved past quickly; Phil said something angrily in response and tried to grab him again, but the spirit dodged.   
“I need to save them!” Jack yelled in frustration taking his hands through his hair. He then froze, as if he realised what he just said. Gently, Phil put a supportive hand on the spirit’s good shoulder, sensing his feelings. Jack sighed.  
“I need to get stronger…as fast as I can…” he explained, turning away. “I need to save them…I’m not strong enough…not yet.” The spirit gave a small smile and walked out of the room whilst he began to tear the sling off his arm. Phil watched and wanted to call him back, but there was nothing for him to be called back for: his shoulder was only dislocated and the bleeding had stopped on his neck for the time being. All he could do was watch him go, and wonder what the spirit could do to get stronger- Jack was one of the most powerful spirits he had ever seen, but that hadn’t even been enough to defeat Pitch Black.

—

“Jack- ya better not be playin’ one of ya stupid games again!”  
“What else?!”   
Jack’s laugh echoed across the snowy landscape as he looked over at Bunny, who was shivering in the middle of the snow. A scowl appeared on the Pooka’s face as he realised he had been tricked.  
“Ya little shit!” He yelled.  
“Language!” Jack yelled back. He could hear Bunny growl angrily, but amusement flashed in his green eyes.  
“Were ya serious about the fight, then?” The Pooka challenged, bounding nearer. Jack grinned.  
“Only if your not a chicken, Kangaroo…” he said back. “Same rules?” Bunny smiled back, and the amusement was replaced with challenge.   
“Yeah, obviously.” He pulled out his boomerangs. “No snowstorms, or any help from the wind or elements whatsoever.”   
Jack laughed at the raw memory of a snow covered Bunny, too frozen to move.  
“And no tunnels.” The spirit reminded, moving into a battle stance.   
“No ice on the ground.” Bunny retorted, moving into his battle stance too. He lay down his ears.  
“And no swearing. Or any rude language. At all.” Jack grinned.  
“Ready?”  
“Go!”  
Jack charged foreword with frost racing after him. Bunny did the same, bounding on four paws until they were inches apart. Then, unexpectedly, the Pooka jumped into the air, intending to go over the spirit. The cold had been forgotten and his limbs were no longer stiff from being frozen.   
Jack cursed silently in his head and quickly managed to drag Bunny down from the air by hooking his belt with the crook of his staff. The Pooka got slammed to the ground, his fall cushioned by snow.   
“Good one Frosty.” Bunny said, smiling. Jack smiled.  
“Thanks!”  
“Do ya wanna know a tip?” The Pooka silently grabbed Jack’s staff crook with a hidden hand.  
“Yeah!” The spirit answered, oblivious. Bunny chuckled.  
“Don’t get distracted easily.”  
“Wha?”  
Bunny tugged Jack’s staff, causing the spirit to fall towards him; with his back legs, he then kicked Jack hard, sending him flying across the snow.   
“It’s on, Kangaroo!” Jack jumped out of the snow and shot hundreds of icicles at his challenger, still in mid air. Bunny yelled in surprise and began to dodge them; he used the opportunity to throw some boomerangs at Jack, but the spirit dodged them swiftly, cartwheeling across the snow.  
“Show pony.”  
“Cottontail.”  
Jack grinned and suddenly darted past Bunny, tripping the Pooka up with his staff. Bunny growled and spun around, kicking Jack again in the ribs.   
They both fell to the ground at the same time, both winded.   
“I could’ve beaten you if I was trying to kill you.” Jack said after a minute of lying in the snow. Bunny laughed.  
“I know I wouldn’t like ya as a opponent.” He replied, and the spirit smiled at the praise.  
“I wouldn’t want to face you either, though.” Jack said back. “How do you manage to fight so well?” Bunny smiled.  
“I practice. A lot.”  
“Practice what? I wanna know!”  
“There’s more to being strong than your physical strength.” The Pooka said, sitting up. He thought. “Though…your strength helps a lot, actually.”  
“What else?” Jack sat up eagerly, moving into a cross-legged position.  
“Ya also need to focus on ya speed. Dodging is one thing, but ya need to be quicker than your opponent in attacking and defence.” Bunny said seriously. Jack nodded and he carried on. “Ya need to be flexible- it will help when ya fightin’, when ya need to counter attack.  
“Stealth is also the key to being the best fighter. It is often overlooked; be light on ya feet and be as silent as the footsteps of a mouse.” Bunny looked at the spirit, who was hanging onto his every word, and smiled.  
“Anything else?” Jack asked, leaning forward. The Pooka nodded.  
“Ya wit. Ya need to learn fast about your opponent’s fightin’ style, an’ his attacks. Use your challenger’s attacks against them whenever ya can, as they will start to learn about you too. Ya have to beat them to it.” Bunny thought, pausing. Jack watched him, eyes wide.   
“There’s one more thing. One thing that will make ya the best ya can be.” He said; Jack leaned closer.   
“What’s that?” He asked.  
“Ya weaknesses. Every warrior must know their weaknesses and refuse to run away from them.”  
“What do you do instead?” Jack asked. Bunny smiled.  
“Ya face them. Face ya weaknesses and make sure ya know how to deal with them in the heat of battle. Ya never know what’ll happen when ya get into a fight. Ya weakness may be the difference between life and death.”   
Jack nodded, smiling.   
He was glad that he would never face Bunny in a real battle, otherwise he would be dead by now.

—

Jack closed his eyes as the memory faded in his mind. After a few seconds, he opened them again and looked at the snowy landscape that stretched out before him, which was located at the back of the pole.   
It was the same place that he and Bunny had practiced their fighting skills; he could still see the remainders of some wooden target boards that North had built for them.   
“I’m going to get stronger.” Jack muttered, staring at the abandoned ‘training grounds’. “And then I will save you all no matter what. I promise.”


	5. Chapter 5

The snow churned around Jack’s feet as he walked past the old training grounds he and Bunny used to share and over to the glaciers beyond, which cut through the clouded sky.   
If Jack wanted to get stronger, he would have to train himself in a place he knew well- what better place than a frozen landscape, away from reality. Here the spirit could feel most relaxed, knowing that nothing would come to disturb him. Here, no one knew he existed.   
After walking for a while, Jack finally stopped, satisfied that he was far away from the Pole. He stared up at the colossal glacier above him and suddenly began to run towards it determinedly as he threw his staff to the side; his eyes were searching for a easy climbing route that he could practice on.  
“Ya also need to focus on ya speed. Dodging is one thing, but ya need to be quicker than your opponent in attacking and defence.”  
Bunny’s words echoed in his ears and, with a cry, Jack launched himself at the first chunk of ice as quick as he could. There was a moment when he was perfectly balanced on the ice but it quickly ended and he slipped, crashing onto the ground below him. Hissing with pain, Jack sprang up and clutched his shoulder again.   
“Shit.” He muttered, stepping backwards a few steps. “That hurt.”   
However, gritting his teeth, the spirit raced forward again and leapt onto the same spot as before; he began slipping again, slower this time, and he cried out in frustration.   
“Come on! I need to do this! How will I get faster and stronger if I can’t balance?!” As a last effort, Jack flung his hands out on the ice…  
…and stopped slipping.  
“Huh?” Jack muttered and hauled himself up, wobbling slightly. “How did that happen?” He looked over to his hands and saw that instead of bail, he had ice claws. Curiously, he twisted his hands and watched as the rays of sunlight bounced off them, giving them a eerie glow. The spirit then touched the sharp points with his finger tip, running them down the hard edge until he reached the end of where his nail once was. Underneath the ice, he could faintly see the rest of his finger, which comforted him a little- it was helpful that his finger was still the same length as before.  
“Cool…” Jack said and began to laugh. He jumped off the ice and took a few steps back again, moving his claws out in front with him.   
“Go!” The spirit cries out to himself and sprinted towards the rock. He launched himself upwards with a stronger, more confident leap and landed successfully on the ice, digging his new claws into the wall. Growling, Jack leapt again, aiming for next landing spot he could see. He was slowly climbing his way up the glacier, determined to be as quick as he could so he could become better than he was.

—

“Ya need to be flexible- it will help when ya fightin’, when ya need to counter attack.”  
Jack reached the top of the glacier eventually and sat down, deciding to rest for a while. It was then Bunny’s advice was pulled from his memory again.  
“I think I’m pretty flexible…” The spirit got up, gazing at the ground below him. “But I guess I better practice.” Despite his aching limbs, Jack stretched and then stood in the middle of the snow, taking a deep breath. Then, he began to do a random gymnastic routine; cartwheel, handstand, backflip, crab, other things he made up- somehow he thought that this was t what the Pooka meant, but what else could he mean?  
Jack did the same again, but quicker, until he slipped and landed ungracefully on his side; his injured shoulder gave a painful stab, reminding him that he couldn’t fight off one nightmare. Angrily, the spirit picked himself off the ground, brushing the snow from his hair, and looked out to the landscape again, watching small flakes of snow swirl in the wind.  
Jack pictured that Pitch was in front of him, grinning like he was the last time he saw him. His amber eyes glittering smugly, a blade twisting in his hand…  
The spirit charged forward, pretending that this was the battle he was going to have to face someday. Last minute, he ducked under the imaginary nightmare king’s arm, swerving his body at a odd angle. He finished with a forwards roll away from him, skidding into the snow clumsily.   
Jack finally knew what Bunny meant about being flexible. 

—

The sun sank into the horizon, and Jack knew that he would have to return to the Pole soon, otherwise all the yeti would worry.   
Jack had spent the rest of the day at the top of the glacier, after collecting his staff from the ground, and began to practice his fighting moves.   
Bunny did say strength counts a lot for success…  
After lots of ice blasts and punches and kicks thrown at an invisible enemy, Jack had decided to rest and now he was sitting at the edge of the glacier, dangling his legs over the edge.   
There was no wind; there was just snow falling gently from the sky, some flakes getting caught in the sun’s fading light. Jack reached out and grabbed one of them, twisting it around in his hand with a faint smile. He had always admired snowflakes- there individuality always fascinated him, no matter how many times he created them.  
The spirit’s smile faded and he let the snowflake slip from his hand.   
He felt…empty.  
Yes, he had practiced his powers today but nothing had changed.  
They were the same. Nothing special. After what the moon told him, he thought that maybe…maybe he would get stronger. But nothing had happened.   
They were the same.   
Jack stood up and grabbed his staff which lay next to him. His limbs shook and his shoulder screamed painfully, but he needed to train more.   
He needed to be stronger.  
The spirit looked at the chunk of ice he had created in the middle of the snow and narrowed his eyes, aiming for the centre of it, which already had chunks missing. With a cry, he charged forward with his staff held like a spear and started whacking the ice with all his might.  
He shot more ice.  
He stabbed.  
He slashed.  
He jabbed.   
The ice began to crumble under his attacks, but Jack wasn’t satisfied. He wanted it to shatter straight away, with only one blow. How was he going to kill any nightmares with his powers as they were now?  
The spirit cried out in frustration, pausing to catch his breath. The pain from his shoulder was almost unbearable and he could barely catch a breath; something in the back of his mind told him to keep going, keep fighting. Jack charged forwards again, slashing the ice with his staff.  
What I really need is a sword…  
Suddenly his staff began to glow a deep blue; the spirit yelled and dropped it, causing the glowing to cease.   
Jack stared at his weapon. For as long as he could remember, his staff had never glowed blue unless he wanted it to. And even then, it wasn’t as bright as that- the glow had practically blinded him for a second.   
Cautiously, Jack poked the staff with his toe; it rolled a few millimetres, but otherwise did nothing.  
“Why isn’t it glowing now?” The spirit muttered, scooping the Shepard’s crook in his hand. Still nothing.  
“Glow!” Jack yelled at it. Unsurprisingly, the staff stayed in his hands, un-glowing. The spirit growled in frustration.   
“Why did it start glowing…” Jack thought back to what he was doing or thinking when it began to act strange.   
I wanted a sword! Jack thought and immediately, his staff began glowing again.   
“A sword! I want a sword! A really nice one!” The spirit cried out, staring at his staff.  
He felt the familiar texture of wood change into a colder, smoother touch beneath his hands. It grew thicker, and shorter.   
Just as Jack thought the light would blind him, it stopped.   
Instead of a Shepard’s crook, he was holding a giant sword in his hand, made completely of ice. The handle was decorated with carvings of snowflakes and the blade was smooth and sharp.  
“What?!” Jack said in disbelief. He swung the sword in the air, pretending to slash some nightmares. The weapon was light and easy to move. As if it was made for him in mind.   
Jack began to laugh, tracing his fingers across the carvings on its handle.   
“This is great!” Jack yelled; he turned to the ice that he had been practicing on. “Let’s see how good this is…” the spirit charged towards the ice, holding his new sword out to one side, and darted past the ice, striking the side. There was a moment when the ice was perfectly still and undamaged; there was silence then the ice shattered into millions of shards, spraying over the snow. Jack watched, fascinated.   
You will discover new heights of your power…  
So that was what the moon meant! Jack grinned and smashed his sword through the air again.   
He was getting stronger.


	6. Chapter 6

“Phil! Phiiiiil! Phiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiillllllllllll!!!”   
Jack raced through the workshop halls, waving his sword in the air. Several yetis sprang out of his way, yelling curses at him.  
“Phiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiillllllllll!!!” The spirit peered through the kitchen door, drawing out the yeti’s name in a loud voice. However, Phil wasn’t in there- only a few elves and other yeti, making cookies. “Can I have one?” He asked, momentarily distracted.   
A female yeti raised an eyebrow, but handed him a cookie from the baking tray, grumbling a warning about its temperature. Jack grabbed it and nibbled a corner. “Thanks.” He muttered with his mouth full. He wolfed down the rest of the biscuit. “Oh! Phil! Where you at?!”  
The spirit hared down the long corridor, glancing into rooms as he went. Swallowing, he called out again.  
“Phiiiiiiiiii- Oh, there you are!” Jack had ran into Phil’s chest, dropping his ice-sword. It slid across the floor a few metres, almost impaling a elf covered in Christmas lights; it squeaked and hid behind the yeti’s leg, peeping at Jack occasionally with a startled expression.  
“Sorry.” The spirit apologised. The elf gave a rude snort. “Hey Phil! You like my sword!” Jack, not giving the elf another thought, rushed past Phil and grabbed his sword. “Look! It’s cool, right?!” The spirit waved the weapon in the air again excitedly. Phil gasped and said something to the spirit followed by urgent questions.  
“Whoa…Whoa! Slow down! This is my staff!” Jack lowed the sword and traced his fingers along the swirls carved into it. “I was practicing fighting on a glacier- yes, I am fine otherwise I wouldn’t be here- anyway, I was beating up this ice block I made and I wanted a sword…and my staff turned into one!” Jack rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “it’s kinda hard to explain…what?” Phil repeated his question as the elf pranced down the hall with Christmas lights trailing behind it, flickering occasionally. Jack watched it go with a raised eyebrow. “Can I get my staff back? I dunno…” The spirit stared at his sword, twisting it in his hand curiously. “Should I try?”  
Phil nodded encouragingly, stepping back a few steps. Just in case.   
Jack bit his lip and held his sword out in front of him and closed his eyes.  
I want my staff back. My staff, my staff…  
The ice sword began to glow brightly in his hand, and the spirit cried out excitedly.  
“It’s working!” He yelled, grinning, and focused on the image of his staff in his mind in detail. He pictured its rough surface and its frosted wood.   
Jack felt the sword’s smooth, cold surface change in his hand and it grew longer and thinner. Finally, with a last pulsing light, Jack’s staff was in his hand again. The spirit laughed and made it snow lightly around him whilst Phil applauded.   
“I did it!” Jack grinned, “it wasn’t as hard this time!” The spirit laughed and created some frost of the floor, which spiralled up the walls. “I wonder…” he muttered, “how many weapons can I make?”  
Phil grunted sternly, and Jack wailed:  
“Whaaaaat?!” The yeti held his gaze, shaking his head. “Why can’t I find out?!” The spirit yelled angrily, and was tempted to stamp his foot like a child.   
Phil grunted something else and began to walk away, ignoring the spirit’s protests.   
“But I won’t overdo it! I won’t wear myself out! I’m not a baby!” Jack yelled behind him but the yeti shown no sign of listening. The spirit growled and actually stamped his foot in frustration.  
He was going to try anyway. 

—

“I’m sorry! Don’t take me to Phil! I’ll be good! I didn’t mean to!” Jack looked up at the yeti who was dragging him across the brightly lit hallways of the Pole.   
Jack had been fine, practicing his new power in a small, abandoned room when he wanted to try out the range of the bow and arrow he had created; to do this, the spirit crept out the room and meant to just fire one arrow at the door which lead to the toy-making room of the workshop (which was empty and abandoned). That was all.  
But instead of landing on the door, the arrow shot through it instead and almost impaled a yeti who was cleaning in there.  
The same yeti that was dragging him to Phil now.  
“You have to admit…that was a really strong arrow…” Jack said, letting the yeti drag him. Besides, he wanted to show off the to Phil and show him he wasn’t a baby. He hand managed to create four more weapons, including the bow and arrow: two mini daggers (he had to snap his staff in half only when it was completely ice when he did this. It felt strange at first, but then he got used to it.); a scythe, with a sharp blade with frost carvings; and chain with two axe heads at either end- Jack didn’t know if that was a real weapon, but he liked using it.   
Jack was now definite he was ready to try and save the guardians; he wasn’t being ‘too eager’, like Phil said.   
The yeti suddenly stopped, yelling about Jack to a yeti he couldn’t see. But it was probably Phil.   
The yeti holding him let go of his arm and stormed off, muttering under its breath. The spirit turned around and, no surprise, saw Phil staring back at him with a glare that could kill an elephant.  
“I just wanted to practice.” Jack said. Phil grunted. “I can make more weapons now! It’s getting easier and easier!”   
The yeti in front of him shook his head firmly, as if he could read the spirit’s thoughts.  
“But I’m ready!” Jack yelled, standing up. His shoulder gave a painful stab as he did so, and he couldn’t help but wince. Phil, sensing his discomfort, shook his head again, anger filling his features.   
“I’m going. I’m going to find them. You can’t stop me!” The yeti said something which made the spirit glare at him. “I am ready! I am strong enough!” He raked his hand through his long hair, which was now a habit, and turned away.   
“I’m going.”   
Phil, sensing defeat, sighed and grabbed something from the dusty shelf next to him, which he had been staring at before Jack was thrown across the floor by an angry yeti. The spirit turned around and his eyes widened at the thing in Phil’s hands.   
“A snow globe…” Jack gasped. The yeti nodded and handed it to him gently, brushing the dust off the top. The spirit stared into it in amazement.   
“The other yeti…they told me that they had all got destroyed…” he muttered. Phil shook his head.  
“Not all of them. Most of them. You must use this to find your way back here if you are in trouble.” He grunted in his language. Jack nodded and began to walk down the hall and into the globe room. There was something else he needed first.

—

Jack stared at the shadow armour in front of him, hanging in the glass case. In his hand was his ice sword, dragging slightly on the floor. His blue eyes reflected on the glass for a second, then the spirit raised his sword; after a small hesitation, he plummeted his sword into the glass, shattering it across the floor.   
Slowly, Jack reached out and grabbed the armour and the hooded coat, dropping his sword behind him. This was all he needed.   
The spirit pulled his battered hoodie off so only a old, white shirt remained, and slipped the shadow armour on carefully, flexing his arms and legs. It fit perfectly.   
Then, over the top, Jack put on the hooded cloak and pulled the hood up, blocking his white hair from sight. It was odd, putting something on that had once belonged to North, but if he wanted to save the Cossack, he needed to protect himself.   
Jack looked at the largest shard of glass on the floor, catching sight of his reflection. He didn’t seem…him anymore.   
Instead of his signature clothing, Jack now wore a black coat over even darker armour. His hair was out of sight and he wasn’t even holding his staff anymore. The only thing the same about him was his blue eyes, but even they held a darker, different look than before.   
He had completely changed. Jack didn’t recognise himself.  
Shaking off the thought, the spirit scooped up his sword and turned to the single window that was giving light into the room. Gripping his weapon harder, Jack ran over to the opening and leaped outside, landing lightly. His footsteps made no sound as they spirited across the snow, with his coat blowing behind him. Blue eyes glimmered from underneath his hood, and a single lock of white hair escaped and brushed his pale cheek. In the half-light, Jack looked like a ghost, drifting across the snowy landscape.


	7. Chapter 7

Jack breathed in the cold air deeply. He had flown from the North Pole to Burgess again, and now was standing on his lake he had awoken from days before.

Days.

The spirit had only been awake for a few days, but it already felt like a lifetime. With the nightmare attacking, his training, discovering the truth _and_ now flying to Burgess, Jack’s limbs ached dully and sharp pains were erupting from his shoulder again. The bite on his neck stung and he could feel a small trickle of blood running down to his new armour.

_Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…_

Jack shook his head, meaning to get rid of his negative thoughts, but only caused his neck wound to complain painfully; the spirit brought a hand up to the bite, clutching it whilst hissing.

“Ouch.” Jack muttered and sat on the lakeside, wiping his bloody hand on the light layer of snow next to him. The spirit pulled a face, noticing the lack of snow, and waved his hand before clamping it around his would again; slow, small flakes began to fall from the sky.

This was the start of the first snowfall in over seventy years for the residents in Burgess- later, news reporters would make their way to the centre of the town, talking about this long-awaited weather. Children would be running around behind them- children who had never seen snow in their back yard- and would be throwing snowballs or just stomping in the white powder in long, fluffy boots whilst giggling and shrieking with glee. Even their parents would venture outside, trying to hide their excitement, and would sweep the snow off their windowsill with an ungloved hand, smiling at its soft touch; they had only had seen snow very rarely, and even at those times it was very disappointing; the flakes would melt before anymore could pile on top to create snow.

Jack was unaware how much fuss the snow would create, however. He was still stuck in his thoughts.

Satisfied that the bite on his neck had stopped bleeding, the spirit peeled his hand away and coated the wound with a layer of frost. The cold ice made it become numb quickly.

“What now?” Jack looked up at the clouds above him which were slowly gathering for heavier snowfall, and was disappointed to see that there was no moon in the sky, watching him. It was day, after all, but Jack couldn’t help but feel a sense of abandonment. He wiped his stained hand on the snow again, watching it slowly turn red. Somehow, this calmed him and he thought up a rough plan.

  1. Find out where Pitch could’ve hid the guardians (Jack guessed that one place must be the ‘lair’ he found by his lake, but he had no clue where the others might be. Maybe he could follow some nightmares…)
  2. _Get the guardian/guardians out._ That was the main objective of his plan. How was he going to do that? He didn’t know. Maybe he could just throw them into a portal? He had a feeling that Pitch wouldn’t make it that easy.
  3. Defeat Pitch. If Jack didn’t want to end up in a coma for another seventy years, he had to beat Pitch.
  4. Then sleep for a few centuries.



There was no way it was going to be that easy, but at least it was some kind of plan. But then again, he could create better.

“I’m gonna die.” Jack sighed and moved into a comfier crossed-legged position.

What would happen if he died?

Could he die?

A memory flashed into his mind.

_A blade, stabbed deep in his chest._

_Pitch, holding the other end, grinning as blood- his blood- dripped onto the tarmac below._

_The pain that shot through him._

_The cries of his friends, his family, as he dropped to his knees, crying out as the pain was becoming unbearable…the blood seeping through his hands…Pitch, laughing…suffocating…_

A small cry escaped from the spirit’s lips as he recalled his last memory.

That night…he felt like he was definitely going to die. The feeling of drowning…the blood…

_Yes,_ Jack decided. _I definitely can die._

So what happened if he did? What if he died before he managed to save them all?

Just the thought of dying made Jack’s chest tighten. Calming himself, the spirit raked a hand through his hair, thinking of the possibilities.

Could the guardians he _had_ managed to save carry on? Even as the thought surfaced, Jack found himself shaking his head. There was a reason why the Moon said only he could do this. If the guardians were able to defeat Pitch, then why weren’t they doing it now? The spirit sighed and stood up.

_I just can’t die until then._ He thought, whilst stretching. _No pressure._

He picked up his sword, twisting it in the sunlight in admiration for a few seconds, then snapped back to his task, pulling the hood up again over his hair, not realising that it had fallen.

“Better get going.” Jack muttered to himself. He faintly remembered where the first ‘lair’ he had found all those years ago was, and knew it was (roughy) at the opposite side of the woods.

The spirit leapt into the air, scanning the trees below him as he made his way to the location. No sign of anything suspicious.

_Where are all the nightmares?_

Surely, there should be loads here, guarding the skies, so close to the entrance. But there was none. Jack’s chest tightened; something was wrong.

A sharp pain suddenly shot through his leg.

His sword was snatched out of his hand.

He was falling…

Another sharp pain erupted in his other leg and Jack cried out, angling himself to see his attacker.

His eyes widened.

Not attacker. _Attackers_.

At least a dozen nightmares were surging towards him, kicking him as he fell with their hard hooves. Their whines filled the sky, and their red eyes blazed like fire.

_They were waiting…they saw me as soon as I was in the sky…_

One of the nightmares tried to kick Jack’s stomach; however, its hoof shattered against his armour, and it screeched angrily.

The spirit landed.

He hit the ground hard enough to bounce upwards again a few inches. Hard enough to crack a few ribs through his armour. Coughing, Jack lifted his bruised arm and grabbed his sword which had landed next to him.

Nightmares neighed and landed on the spirit, trampling the areas which were unprotected. He screamed as the hooves made contact with his battered limbs.

“No! I can’t die!” Jack gasped. He gripped the sword tightly. “Not…yet!” The spirit let frost explode around him, forcing all the nightmares off his body; they screeched, some of them bursting into dust. Panting, Jack graced himself onto his feet, leaning on his sword. His eyes flashed fiercely, glowing a bright blue.

“Fight me.” He growled, standing straight. The remaining nightmares charged forward, snorting angrily. In one swift movement, Jack sliced them all with his ice-blade. The wind howled. The nightmares froze, each having a deep, blue scratch penetrating their skin.

There was silence.

Then the nightmares shattered into ice simultaneously as Jack stumbled backwards, sinking into his knees.

“It worked…” he let out a weak burst of laughter before lying down fully, staring at the clear sky. “I beat them..are you proud of me, Bunny?” He laughed again, letting his eyes close. Maybe sleep was the best in a situation like his. “You better be…”

A thin layer of snow began to cover Jack’s body as he sighed peacefully, and let sleep take him.


	8. Chapter 8

Pain.

It was the first thing he was aware of as his eyes cracked open hours later. It seemed to seep through his whole body, and every bruise, cut and sprain let itself be known. The pain had shocked him out of his sleep quicker than he would’ve liked.

Cold.

A odd feeling was also taking hold of him. Jack ignored the stabs of pain and focused on it, trying to figure it out. He had never felt it before. With a jolt, he realised he must be cold. _But why?_ But the numbness began to fade slightly as his attention was returned to the pain.

Questions. Doubt. Fear. Pain.

Reality crashed down upon the winter spirit like a tidal wave. Jack shifted his glazed eyes away from the darkening sky, past the trees and onto the ground around him.

Pain.

Jack let out a cry, breath hitching, as he turned his head slowly, gathering his surroundings. The coldness returned and questions crossed with fear pushed their way into his mind. He shut his eyes. His breathing slowed to a more rhythmic pace before opening them again and he ignored the questions that had surfaced. As another bout of pain shot through his body, the scattered events of a few hours ago came back to his mind.

He was ambushed…

And he fell.

And now he was here, lying in agony. So much for finding that ‘lair’. The nightmares must’ve spotted him from the air as he was flying. Looking back, Jack saw that the decision to fly there was pretty stupid, but what else could he do?

He couldn’t walk, because that would take too long. He would only have to take a couple of steps before getting ambushed again.

Jack closed his eyes again, the pain making him feel sick. The cold was definitely more known now, inching its way through his limbs. The feeling forced the spirit to open his eyes again, wondering how this was happening when there was almost no snow on the ground, thanks to the trees that towered above him.

But his mind was growing foggy, and what little sense he could create out of the situation was instantly forgotten. A few more minutes of sleep couldn’t hurt…

—

Jack cracked open his eyelids. The sky was almost black, with white stars scattered across its surface. The spirit guessed that it was either the early hours of a new day or the late hours of the night.

The pain came back, but now it was just a dull ache- that was, until he decided to move his arm; a sharp jab made him wince and lower the limb.

He wasn’t cold anymore.

The numbness had left him completely and shivers stopped passing through his body. Jack smiled and lifted his arm again, trying to see what kind of state it was in. With the movement, a odd cracking sound echoed across the clearing.

 _I can’t have broken it_ that _bad, could I?_ Jack thought alarmingly. He raised his arm higher, noticing that it was heavier than usual. However, it didn’t hurt like a broken arm- the spirit had experienced enough of those after numerous tree-climbing accidents.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, his arm was fully raised above his head.

What he saw made him gasp.

On each of the injuries that were littered across his arm, a glowing, thick sheet of frost was covering them. Where the frost had cracked, a new sheet was already being created.

 _That’s why I’ve been cold._ Jack realised. _All of my energy has been used up on healing myself._

Despite his limbs complaints, the spirit heaved himself into a sitting position. Now he could see that the frost had covered almost all of his body, busily healing the wounds. He watched for a while, fascinated.

“I never knew I could do that…” he murmured. He ran a finger across some of the ice on his face, and noticed that it seemed to be melting. Beneath, Jack could feel a slight bump where the cut had been, but nothing else. “Cool…”

A high pitched whining suddenly echoed through the trees, making Jack shiver. Gripping his sword, the spirit narrowed his eyes over to the source of the noise, and could make out a shape of a nightmare through the trees, wincing at its snorts. It seemed to be tracking him, but hadn’t found him yet.

Jack stood up slowly, his cloak concealing all noise as he crept forward, making barely any movement, eyes staring unblinking at the target. He raised his sword higher, ready to plunge, when the line nightmare unexpectedly turned towards him. It seemed just surprised as him, however, as it just stood there for awhile. Jack stared back into its red eyes, unflinching.

The horse struck first, aiming to snap its jaws across his neck. Jack, familiar with this move, dodged by ducking into the floor; he then managed to scratch the nightmare’s underbelly with his sword before having to retreat again to avoid getting trampled on. The horse shrieked and head butted the spirit backwards- an attack like this would usually leave the opponent stunned, but the armour only caused the attack to cause slight discomfort.

The fighting pair circled around each other, eyes narrowed and chests heaving.

“My turn.” Jack muttered and shot forward like a bullet, leaping onto the horse’s back. The horse shrieked, tearing up on its hind legs, but the spirit clung on, discarding his sword. Instead he created the ice-claws, and dug them deep into the horse’s back.

The nightmare immediately began to glow blue, and Jack cursed in surprise.

“What the?!” He yelled and was suddenly bucked off the nightmare, which now had disappeared into a blue light. The spirit shielded his eyes.

Slowly, the light faded. When he was sure it was safe, Jack removed his a away from his eyes and looked at the spot the nightmare once had been.

In its place stood a horse, almost completely covered in ice, with a pair of shining blue eyes. Jack looked closer and saw that, in between the ice, there was a few grains of nightmare sand.

“Was that…the nightmare?” Jack stood up and cautiously raised a hand towards the horse’s muzzle. Snorting softly, the horse stared at the outstretched hand for a second, but then pushed its head into his palm, closing its eyes lazily. Jack laughed softly.

“I can’t…I can’t believe it!” He whispered, and stroked the horse along the mane. “This is…” he trailed off, unable to describe his happiness and shock in words.

The horse nuzzled closer to him affectionately, realising that he was its new master.

“Could I…ride you?” Jack asked nervously. The horse knelt down immediately, shaking its mane. Jack smiled and swung his leg on the horse’s back gently, grabbing his sword as he did so. The horse slowly stood upright again, giving out a pleased neigh.

“What should I call you?” Jack muttered. The nameless horse turned to him, watching curiously. Jack stroked its black mane again- the nightmare sand mixed with the ice still made it look black. The spirit suddenly gasped.

“What about Raven Wing?” He said. “Raven for short.” Raven neighed and stamped on the ground excitedly. Jack smiled.

“I’m glad I’ve got someone to keep me company now.” He whispered.


	9. Chapter 9

Raven whined softly, making Jack smile.

“Do you still remember where the entrance is?” He asked the horse. Raven Wing gave a small nod and began to walk slowly through the forest, giving the spirit some time to get used to riding.

Jack gripped Raven’s mane tightly at first, but began to relax as the ride went on, surveying his surroundings more. He looked down at the horse and smiled again, still amazed at what he had done.

Only a few hours ago, Jack had been fighting this horse. He had found it searching for him among the trees, and attacked it in fear of being discovered. During the attack, somehow, the spirit had managed to weave his ice magic into the nightmare, overriding the black sand, and now it was loyal to him. Shortly after this, Jack named the horse Raven Wing, or Raven for short, because the colour of the sand resembled a raven’s wing.

Now, they were on their way through the forest ridden with nightmares to try and find the guardians, like the moon said.

 _Speaking of nightmares…_ Jack thought, narrowing his eyes. Through the trees, he could see two of them, snorting angrily, eyes blazing. Jack tapped Raven’s neck in warning, and the horse stopped, standing silently.

Jack closed his eyes and focused on changing his ice sword into a bow. He felt the handle in his hand change into a thinner one and he opened his eyes again, relieved to find a bow in his hand. The nightmares pricked their ears, freezing. Quickly, Jack made an arrow in his free hand and aimed at the bigger horse.

_I can do this…I need to do this…_

He released and the arrow hit its target. With a screech, the horse disintegrated into black dust; the other nightmare spotted the spirit and charged towards him. Jack created another arrow and did the same again, hitting it a few metres in front of them.

“It worked…” he muttered, watching the nightmare fall. “It actually worked…” he slid off Raven and poked the remains of the horse with his toe. Nothing happened. Raven’s footsteps sounded behind him; a moment later he felt the stallion’s head rest on top of his. He laughed quietly, stroking his neck.

“Let’s go.” The spirit said, and Raven lowered himself again so he could climb on his back. Jack slipped the bow around one of his shoulders and drew his hood up, tucking in his white hair.

—

It was growing steadily dark by the time Raven Wing had lead Jack to the rotting bed, which had the entrance to the ‘hideout’ hidden underneath. Jack stared at it from the thick dense of trees they had hidden themselves in, stroking Raven as he did so. His bow lay beside him along with a large amount of arrows, in case he had to fight his way inside. But there was no need. The cloak he wore absorbed all the sounds he made, and made him blend perfectly into the shadows.

He stopped stroking his horse for a second to tuck his hair back into his hood; Raven whined and head-butted the spirit from where he lay demandingly. Jack smiled and resumed the stroking again fondly, still staring the bed.

“I’ve got to go down there, you know.” He whispered. Raven whined and edged closer to him, pressing his body against his. Jack smiled.

“I know…but there is someone down there, waiting for me. Do you understand?” Raven lay his head on the spirit’s leg affectionately. Jack scratched behind the horse’s ear.

“I think it will be better though if I go in the day, though.” He frowned as he watched a nightmare weave through the trees. “Hopefully then there won’t be as many nightmares. They seem to be more active at night.” He sighed. “Not like it’ll make a difference when I’m down there.” Jack shuddered, remembering the only other time he went down there. Raven buried his head closer into him and Jack stroked him back, waiting for night to pass.

—

_Why were they disappearing? They were loyal…they wouldn’t leave him…then they must be…but it was impossible…_

A dark figure paced among the shadows, his amber eyes cutting into the blackness. Beside him, a horse with red, blazing eyes was bowing its head in respect.

“How many?!” The dark figure snapped, slinking further into the shadows. The horse whined softly, pawing the ground with a hoof. The figure hissed in response, stepping out of the shadows and walking towards a giant globe in the middle of the room. On each continent and island, lights were shining, though not many.

“I can’t seem to stop everyone from believing…” Pitch Black muttered, glaring at the lights that flickered bravely. “But they are nowhere near enough.”

He turned away from the globe and faced his nightmare, who was still standing with its head bent.

“You say that they are going missing around Burgess?!” He asked sharply. The horse nodded once, backing away slightly.

_A few nightmares going missing are nothing compared to the rest of my army…but still…_

The nightmare king paced back into the shadows, dismissing the stallion next to him with the flick of his hand.

_I better check the other places where I imprisoned them, just to see…_

Pitch glared at the globe again, eyes flashing.

_Almost all of them._

There was still one guardian hidden from him.

One guardian that he was meant to kill over seventy years ago.

One guardian that, if not dead, could threaten his whole existence.

Jack Frost.

The other guardians refused to say where he was, and Pitch hadn’t found him.

And that annoyed him greatly.

_But, there has been no sign of him for over seventy years…he must be dead._

But a nagging feeling told him that he was wrong. So that was why he was going to his other retreats, to see if anything was happening.

_Nothing will make me loose power again…not when I’ve had it for this long._

—

As the sun inched over the trees, Jack sat up, rubbing his eyes. Most of the injures that had gathered over the past couple of days were healed and pain-free, and all the frost was gone, leaving small scars at the most.

Raven Wing lay next to him, blue eyes alert, scanning the clearing. He must’ve been watching all night.

“Thanks, Raven.” Jack rubbed the horse’s neck and moved into a crouched position. “Anything?” Raven shook his head. Jack smiled as the stallion watched him with wide eyes. The spirit sighed and grabbed his bow.

“You know I’ve got to go.” Jack whispered; Raven whined softly and began to get up. The spirit pushed him down. “No. You have to stay here.” He looked into the horse’s eyes. “Please. I need to guard here, in case the nightmares swarm. I’m going to need a quick escape.”

_And I don’t want you getting hurt as quickly as I’ve met you._

Jack stood up silently, making sure his hair was covered by his hood, and began to creep out of the trees they were in, picking his way among the leaves and sticks. He didn’t look back until he reached the bed; he changed his bow into the two ice-daggers. Only then, just as he was about to jump in, he looked back and saw two large, blue eyes staring back at him. He smiled reassuringly and lifted a hand to wave. The spirit turned back to the bed and slipped underneath, and then he was falling into blackness.


	10. Chapter 10

After what seemed like an age, Jack finally stopped falling and landed neatly on his feet, barely wobbling. The surface beneath him felt like sand; it seeped through his toes, making him shudder.

Jack looked above, straining his eyes in the darkness, but there was no evidence of the entrance he had fell through. There was no light to be seen, and it was hard to imagine that he had only been up there moments ago, sitting beside Raven Wing.

Thinking of his new horse made his stomach lurch in worry- he wasn’t sure if it had even been a full day since he ‘tamed’ the stallion, but he already felt a large amount of fondness for him. But now, Raven was miles above him, and the spirit was alone again.

What unnerved him the most, however, wasn’t the fact that Raven Wing wasn’t with him- it was the fact that being in the dark reminded him of drowning. Sure, he had been in here once before, but he was distracted. Now that he was alone with nothing to follow, the darkness seemed to close in on him. It had the same suffocating feeling…the same uncertainty…

Jack closed his eyes and pushed his thoughts back. He had to focus on what he was going to do now, not what had happened. He had to push his fears and doubts from his mind. He had to save them. It was what he was meant to do.

Jack opened his eyes again, not that it made a difference to his surroundings, and silently tapped one of the daggers onto the ground he stood on. Frost erupted from the edge of his blade and crawled across the floor- he could hear the ice cracking as it curved around the corners. The spirit stood on top of the frost and began to follow it carefully, hoping that it would lead him in the right direction. Occasionally, his feet would stray from the ice underneath him and he would have to spend a few minutes brushing the ground with his toes to find it again, but soon Jack was looking at the globe in the centre of the room from a crack in the wall and realised it was _light,_ and that he could _actually_ see.

The spirit’s glee was cut short, however, as a series of hooves echoed off the walls, raving towards him. Jack cursed and looked for an escape.

 _I can’t draw attention to myself…I can’t fight…more will come and then_ he _will know._ He thought desperately, _Come on! There’s gotta be something!_

Jack backed against the wall in panic. The hooves were getting closer, closer…

The spirit’s hand brushed against a rock that jutted out against the wall. Struck with sudden inspiration, he quickly flung himself around and dug his toe daggers into the wall and began to climb it. His feet scraped against the stone noisily as he heaved himself upwards, arms trembling.

_Don’t let me fall…Moon have mercy…_

One of Jack’s daggers suddenly sloped inwards, making him slip dangerously. He could hear the horses beneath him now, snorting angrily. Hissing, the spirit tried to plunge his dagger in the stone again, but he only stabbed air.

 _A dip!_ He realised, sparking with hope. _If I could just…_

Jack pushed himself into the hole and found that he could fit inside quite easily if he tucked his knees in his chest. He held his breath and listened as the nightmares below him. Their snorts and whines grew fainter; Jack sighed in relief, letting himself flop against the wall. He waited a few minutes silently, still and unmoving, until the sounds died altogether, and he was alone with the darkness once more.

Slowly, he slid down the stone again and crouched onto the floor, hiding himself in the shadows. Using the wall as a guide, he began to move forward to where the globe was standing. On it, a few, scattered lights shone dully; some flickered alarmingly. Jack turned away and crept around the globe, searching for any kind of clues.

 _Why are there no guards here?_ He wondered. He shoved the thought away as he saw a singular opening hidden in the darkness. He slowly advanced forward, clutching his daggers tighter.

—

“Why so glum?” Pitch asked from the shadows. He stared at the prisoner in front of him. Her once colourful feathers were now split and dull; her purple eyes were glazed with grief and hate. She was bound to the wall by dark chains made of black sand. “It has been so long, but you still look sad…why?” The Boogeyman laughed softly and walked closer to her, narrowing his eyes. The fairy looked away, staring at the wall next to her.

“Are we still playing the silent treatment?” Pitch turned and moved away from her again, fading into the shadows again. “Shame…”

A snort of disbelief came from the fairy, but she did not speak- only glared. Pitch chuckled again.

“Don’t give me that look…” the nightmare king then sunk into the shadows entirely, his laughter still echoing off the walls. Once he left, the fairy let out a choked sob and let herself hang loosely from the chains.

“Don’t escape now…I’ve got a _special_ nightmare to take care of that…” Pitch’s voice came as a whisper by her ear; she flinched and ceased crying immediately. Laughter echoed again and then silence.

A scuffle.

The fairy snapped her head over to the direction of the sound, feathers raising instinctively. A cold, familiar chill breezed past her and she narrowed her eyes in the darkness.

—

The voice stopped talking and Jack braved himself to dodge the speaker as he came out the door.

But he never came.

A few minutes passed, and the spirit decided that it was safe to enter the room. Slowly, he dropped into a crouch and advanced forward making no sounds. Pausing, he let his eyes adjust to the darkness that surrounded him.

 _Could this be-_ his thought was cut off as he accidentally slipped- his hand dropped the dagger he was holding and it made a quiet _thump_ onto the floor. The spirit froze.

Then he heard a noise. It was small, as if whoever else that was in the room didn’t want to be heard, but it sounded like a muffled sob. He tilted his head in confusion.

_Nightmares don’t cry…_

Slowly, he crept forward and into a lighter section of the room. His blue eyes shone as he moved closer and a single lock of hair escaped from his hood. He didn’t realise this, however, and kept moving closer until he was halfway across the room.

Jack could see the person in the room slightly better now; he saw the outline of it and thought it must be covered in spines or something close. Suddenly, purple eyes pierced his blue ones and he moved closer, realising…

Not spines. Feathers.

“Tooth?” He breathed; it seemed unreal to him…if it was her…

The figure visibly stiffened and her purple eyes grew wider.

“Who…who are you?” She asked. Jack felt a overwhelming sense of relief and happiness as he hear the voice he had heard so many times, telling stories of her kingdom.

However, the happiness didn’t block out his caution. He crept even closer and could see chains hanging off her wrists and chest.

The spirit stood up slowly and pulled down his hood, letting his white hair fall to his shoulders.

“Jack?” Tooth gasped; Jack grinned and waved slightly with his free hand.

“Hey, Tooth.” He replied. Tooth’s eyes widened and she slowly began to smile, until she was beaming.

“Jack! I can’t believe it!” Jack swore he saw his feathers brighten. “It’s been so long…I thought that…” her eyes brimmed with tears. Jack smiled and walked over to her chains, studying them. He then began to saw at one with his dagger, and wedged the other into a crack in the wall.

“Hey…I’m fine…let me just get you out of these…” The spirit smiled at the tooth fairy reassuringly. Tooth laughed weakly.

“I’m just glad your okay.” She said, staring at him. “I just can’t…I must be dreaming…”

“I hope not.” Jack grinned as one of the chains finally snapped. Tooth let her hand drop, sighing in relief.

“Where’s your staff?!” She asked suddenly. She noticed the daggers. “What are those? _How did you even get-_ “

“What is it?” Jack asked as Tooth cut off suddenly.

“There’s something there…behind you…” she whispered. Suddenly, a bellowing roar rattled the walls; Jack spun around, shielding Tooth, and his eyes widened.

Staring back at him, with blazing red eyes, was a enormous black bear, made entirely out of dream sand. The bear rested on its hind legs and roared again; Jack clutched his dagger tight.

“Jack, don’t-“

“I’m not leaving without you.” Jack interrupted. “Not after you’ve waited this long.”


	11. Chapter 11

Jack quickly grabbed his other dagger and stepped in front of Tooth, eyeing this new opponent for a weakness. The bear bellowed louder and dropped back of all-fours, lumbering closer to him. Jamming his daggers together, the spirit changed his weapon into the chain with two axe heads at each end. He heard Tooth gasped behind him.

“Be careful!” She whispered as the bear raised a enormous black paw and swiped; Jack dodged quickly but he still felt its claws scrape against his leg. His leap ended with a clumsy landing, his leg buckling beneath him.

“Hang on!” Tooth yelled frantically, “I trying to break this chain, and then I can help!”

“You won’t be able to.” Jack hissed as he stood up, only to find the bear charging towards him. He swung one of his axe heads at the wall behind the bear, then pulled himself after it. He successfully slid under the bear’s legs, confusing it for a few vital seconds. “I’ll let you out as soon as I can, but I need this bear out of the way first.” The spirit looked at Tooth and smiled at her as he pulled the other axe head closer to him. “Don’t bear yourself up about it.”

The bear roared and swung its head around, snarling. Jack swung one of the axe-heads around the nightmare’s face, slicing its muzzle. The bear growled as a black liquid leaked from the wound and it raised a paw again, extending its claws as it did so. Jack, seeing his opportunity, hooked the chain around the paw and yanked it to the ground; the spirit then climbed on its back, forcing the paw to move unnaturally upwards once more. The bear let out a bellow of pain and lost its balance and toppled onto the floor. Jack quickly slid off the creature and changed his weapon back to his sword. Before he could raise it, however, the bear bit onto his injured leg and tossed him to the other side of the room.

“Jack!” Tooth’s worries cry echoed around the room; Jack began to push himself up with his arms but the nightmare slammed its paws down on his back. The spirit yelled in pain and managed to turn around so he was facing the bear. He was met with rows of dagger-like teeth that were determined to sink into his throat.

“Jack! I can’t get out…hold on!”

Jack tried holding the jaws away but the nightmare was determined, snapping its teeth viscously, breaking from his grip. As Jack turned his head away for the fifth time, something glinted in the corner of his eye.

It was his sword, a few metres away from him. The spirit gritted his teeth and quickly snatched it and jammed it into the bear’s throat.

The nightmare froze, staring down at him and Jack watched as its red eyes dulled as blood ran steadily from its neck. It gagged then collapsed onto him, eyes staring unseeing into his. The spirit pushed the animal off him, panting, then pulled his sword out, staring at its unmoving body. Tooth broke the silence.

“Are you hurt badly? I saw it bite you before…” Jack didn’t answer, but continued to gaze at the nightmare. “Jack! Answer me!” The spirit gained back his focus, smiling weakly.

“Hey, I’m honestly…”

All of a sudden, all of the scratches and bites began hurt so much Jack was about to scream in agony- the only reason he didn’t was because he bit his lip to prevent doing so. His mangled leg made itself most known the most, bleeding at an alarming rate, and as the room span around him, Jack realised he was definitely not,

“…fine.” He managed to utter and limped over to Tooth, dragging his sword. He could feel her piecing gaze on him as he undid her other chains and she slipped out of them, rubbing her wrists.

“Finally…” she breathed and looked at Jack again. The spirit watched as her eyes moved to the scratches on his face and down to his leg, which was now shaking alarmingly though there was no weight on it. She gasped. “Sit down, now.” She ordered.

“Really…I’m-“

“ _Now.”_

“Tooth, you’re overe-“

 _“Don’t make me ask you again.”_ She warned him fiercely. Jack looked away and tried to step back, but his leg finally gave way, crumpling underneath him. The spirit sank to the floor and closed his eyes to stop the ground from spinning.

_I am definitely not fine._

“Are you okay?!” Tooth was suddenly at his side, propping him against the wall. She cursed under her breath. “That was a stupid question.” She muttered, “when you are quite obviously not…” Jack snorted, but his smile turned into a grimace quickly as Tooth moved his injured leg into a straighter position.

“Sorry.” She said, hearing his hiss. Jack watched through one eye (his hair was blocking the other) as she silently assessed his wound, occasionally muttering things like, “that bear did a number on this leg…” and “ouch…poor Sweettooth.”

Jack smiled to himself as he watched the fairy’s antics.

“Nothing’s changed at all…” he murmured, smiling wider.

“Your going to have to rest for a while.” She said bluntly, moving to sit next to him.

“No- really-“

“I’m not even sure your going to be able to use that leg for a while…” she carried on, as if he never spoke, “I can see your bone in some places…” she shuddered.

“It’ll heal!” Jack said, cutting her off whilst he could. Tooth stared at him, eyes wide.

“What?”

“It new to me too.” Jack said, brushing his hair from his eye. “Frost kinda…covers the wound and…ta-da…I’m not really sure how it works…”

“Do you know how rare it is to do that?” Tooth asked him. Jack shook his head slowly.

“Is it rare?”

“Extremely. I haven’t heard about a immortal doing that in…actually I can’t remember.” She was lost in thought for a few seconds, but then was quickly brought back to earth when Jack coughed slightly. “But anyway, that wound you’ve got? It won’t heal quickly, even if you were the fastest healer. So it looks like your stuck here for a while.”

“But what if more nightmares come here?” Jack questioned. Tooth shook her head, smiling.

“They won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Pitch is gone.”

“What do you mean?” Tooth smiled again reassuringly.

“If I know Pitch, he would’ve sent all the nightmares with him.” She sighed. “He always was too confident…” her eyes suddenly filled with tears.

“What’s up?” Jack asked her, confused. She smiled again, looking directly at him.

“It’s still too hard to believe…” she sniffed.

“What is?” Jack asked, tilting his head.

“You.” She answered, wiping her eyes. “After so long…you suddenly appear literally out of nowhere…just as I was ready to accept that I would be stuck here forever…” she laughed weakly, clearing the rest of her tears. Jack watched, at lost about what to say. He had never seen Tooth like this before: she was always so strong, never letting her emotions get the better of her, and one of the fiercest fighters in the group. But now, as she looked as un-Toothlike as he could imagine, Jack was in unknown territory.

“How did you come here anyway?” The fairy asked suddenly, surprising the spirit. “How did you get out of the ice?” Jack hummed in thought.

“I…dunno…” he began twisting some of his hair around his finger. “I think I just…woke up…and then the moon was there.”

“Man in Moon?!” Tooth gasped. Jack nodded.

“Yeah…said some things…and he told me I had been in that ice for over 70 years…” the spirit broke off. The fact that he was seventy years older that he remembered himself being was still strange to him.

“Oh, Jack…” Tooth said, watching him. “It was the only place that we were sure Pitch couldn’t find you.” Jack smiled.

“It’s okay…I’m here now, anyway.” He tilted his head. “Could I ask a question, though?”

“What is it?”

“Why the ice? Why put me there, in that lake?” Tooth smiled, eyes brightening.

“It was Sandy’s idea- Pitch would never look in a place that was so simple and obvious. He expected you to be heavily guarded- that’s why he raided the Pole and all our homes- but Pitch, like I said before, was always too overconfident.” She explained and Jack grinned.

“Well, his plan worked, didn’t it?”

“I’m glad it did.”

The two guardians fell into a comfortable silence, and a few minutes later Jack found himself slowly drifting off, his eyes closing for a few seconds at a time. He looked over at Tooth again, who was deep in thought, and felt something he hadn’t experienced in a while, but knew it well.

Happiness.


	12. Chapter 12

A sudden screech echoed through the twisted halls of darkness; Jack lifted his head as Tooth sprang up to her feet, fists clenched.

“I guess you heard that too?” The spirit whispered, and the fairy nodded. He pushed himself into a standing position, wincing, and strained his ears to listen again.

“There!” Tooth whispered as another screech, louder than the last one, cut through the silence. Jack cursed and limped over to her, pulling up his hood.

“They’re coming.” He expected Tooth to gasp, or show some fear, but as purple, fierce gaze met his, Jack only saw determination flash through her mind.

“I’ll help you fight them.” Tooth gritted her teeth and clenched her fists tighter until the spirit could see the whites of her knuckles.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You know just as well as me that these nightmares are the worst. You haven’t had enough believers in probably years.”

“I don’t care!” Tooth whispered loudly. More whines came from outside. “Your hurt, and I can still fight!” Jack stared at Tooth for a minute, then shook his head in defeat.

“Fine.” He said and could feel a grin itching to form on his face. The fairy looked comical, with hands on her hips and her lips pursed. It was a look a mother would give to her disobedient child, and in any other situation he would already be laughing. He picked up his sword and headed towards the door. “I don’t intend for us to fight our way out though.”

“How will we get out then?”

Jack grinned and changed his sword back into his staff.

“We’ll skate out.”

Tooth laughed.

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?”

“Nope. You ready?”

“Always.”

—

Jack weaved through the horses, concentrating on the ice he was creating across the floor in front of him. Surprisingly, his plan was working so far and they were almost to the entrance of the ‘lair’. Jack was just thinking of what to do next when his injured leg collapsed beneath him again. Luckily, he was now directly under the tunnel that lead to the outside, where Raven was waiting.

“You need to get up!” Tooth’s voice whispered close to his ear as she began to pull him up from under his armpits. He could hear the horses coming closer, whining in anger and excitement. “I’m not leaving without you…come on!” The spirit pulled himself unsteadily to his feet, closing his eyes to stop the room spinning.

“Hold on to me.” He said urgently.

“What?”

“Trust me.” Tooth nodded and and hung onto him. Jack smiled. “I am right in thinking you can’t fly?”

“Yes…What has that got to do with- Oh!” The fairy understood what he was about to do. “Be careful.”

“Funny…that was the same thing I was going to say to you.” Jack joked, grinning, then allowed the wind to scoop him into the air. He could hear the nightmares jumping to pursue him and desperately scanned the ground for Raven Wing.

“You can’t go fast enough to escape them…you don’t have to let me fly with you…I’m slowing you down.”

“They catch up with me when I’m at my quickest anyway.” Jack reassured.

_There!_

The spirit finally saw Raven. The stallion was running underneath him, whining urgently. Tooth heard his calls too, and looked underneath her feathers.

“There’s one of them under us…” she warned him. Jack smiled at her.

“He’s fine- he’s with me.” He answered and slowed down, making it easier for Raven to run underneath him.

“With you?!”

“Yeah…” Jack answered distractedly, still eyeing the stallion.

“Is there any point to ask how?” Tooth said.

“I’ll explain later…” The spirit dropped from the air suddenly and began to plummet to the ground. The nightmares, confused by the sudden change, tried to follow but they were moving too quickly- they had to double back then dive, and by the time they did so the spirit was a few metres ahead of them.

Tooth gasped and cling onto him harder as she felt her grip beginning to loosen.

“What are you doing?!”

“Getting outa here!” Jack watched as Raven moved directly under him, waiting to catch. “Hold on!”

Jack waited until he was a few metres away from the ground, then grasped Raven Wing’s mane and swing himself and Tooth onto his back. Tooth yelled in surprise as she was shoved against the stallion’s neck; the spirit smiled slightly then turned to look behind him.

The nightmares shrieked as they made contact with the ground; two of them turned into dust on impact. The others were uncoordinated and confused; Jack took it as a queue to go and nudged Raven with his heel gently.

“Time to go.” He muttered. Raven gave a short nod then raced through the woods, jumping over tree roots and stray rocks.

“This horse…he’s amazing…” Tooth said as she traced the frost patterns on his neck. Jack smiled.

“Thanks…all I did was-“

A shriek of rage cut him from his explanation; the spirit spun around and saw that one surviving nightmare was now giving them the chase, eyes blazing furiously.

“That is one pissed nightmare.” Jack muttered. He patted Raven. “Keep running!” The stallion resumed its fast pace as Jack reformed his weapon into the bow again, creating at arrow with his free hand. He ignored Tooth’s gasp, instead focusing on the head of the nightmare.

 _Wait for it…come on…almost…_ the spirit narrowed his eyes, pulling the arrow back harder.

_Now!_

He released and the arrow reached its target in milliseconds, directly above the nightmare’s eyes. The horse gave out a pained shriek and turned into black dust.

“That was amazing!” Tooth complimented, looking back at the pile of dust. Raven Wing slowed down to a trot as they emerged from the trees and into the lake clearing.

Jack blushed slightly.

“Not really…it was just luck…” He stammered.

“That wasn’t luck.” Tooth said, smiling. “How can you change your weapon like that?!”

“It’s new to me too…I dunno…” Jack though back. “It just happened one day.” Raven came to a halt on the edge of the frozen lake and crouched down so the two guardians could slide off. Tooth did so first, patting Raven briefly before offering a hand to Jack. The spirit grinned and gratefully took it, using is as a support for his damaged leg. Despite the extra support, his leg still gave a sharp burst of pain as it touched the ground and the spirit let out a painful hiss.

“We need to treat that.” Tooth said as Jack felt the pain numb a little.

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t start.” Jack rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the grin forming on his face. Tooth smiled back, laughing slightly as the spirit raised an eyebrow.

“Is there anywhere to go? Apart from a lake?” Tooth questioned.

“Wait!” Jack fished around in his coat and brought out a snow globe.

“Is that-?”

“Yeah…I stopped off at the Pole before hand…Phil gave it to me.”

“I thought the pole had been abandoned” Tooth said. Jack nodded.

“It is. But some yeti have managed to survive.” Jack through the snow globe onto the ground and a bright purple portal appeared a few feet ahead of them. “This globe takes us to the Pole.” Jack added. Tooth nodded and let the spirit lean on he shoulder.

“Raven- come on.” Jack called back to his horse.

“Nice name.” Tooth commented. “It suits him.”

“Thanks.” Raven Wing trotted forward curiously and sniffed at the portal for a few seconds.

“You just step through.” Jack explained to the stallion. It hesitated for a few more seconds then slowly stepped through the portal.

“Hope no one attacks him.” Jack muttered as he and Tooth moved towards the portal. The spirit stumbled slightly and the fairy help him regain his balance.

“We better go then.” She said. Jack smiled.

“Ladies first.” Tooth snorted.

“You think I’m leaving you to walk though a portal on your own?”

“I’m not an old man!”

“I wasn’t saying you were.” Tooth smiled and gestured towards the portal. Jack grinned back and they both stepped through together, their strides in sync.


	13. Chapter 13

“He’s a friend! He’s trained! Stop!” Jack yelled, standing in front of Raven, who took a few steps back. The yeti let out a sigh of relief and walked away, grumbling.

As the spirit predicted, the yeti in the workshop panicked when they saw what seemed like a nightmare doing unexpectedly out of a portal. As soon as he stepped through, Jack saw that a yeti was already charging at Raven full of rage. The stallion, in panic, raced behind his owner and tried to seek comfort and protection. After a few minutes, Jack had finally reassured the yeti in front of him whist Tooth informed the other workers in the workshop.

Jack’s leg bucked again, and was grateful to find that Raven was close by, letting him lean on his back. He heard a sigh behind him and turned his head around; Tooth was in the doorway leading to the globe room with her lips pursed. She walked over to the spirit, scratching Raven as she passed.

“You’re coming to the infirmary with me.” She announced. When Jack raised an eyebrow, she rolled her eyes. “Now.”

“Yes, ma’am…” The spirit muttered, using his horse as a prop as he he stumbled over to the fairy. “But really, I’m-“

“If you say fine one more time I’ll knock a tooth out of your mouth.” Tooth cut him off, taking his hand and hoisting him to her side, leaving Raven to move more freely.

“You would rather die.” Jack grinned, but then stumbled again. Tooth caught his quickly, smiling.

“Really? Why?” The two guardians moved through the globe room slowly and through another doorway.

“My teeth are too perfect.” Jack laughed as Tooth snorted.

“You win.” She said and turned right, so they were walking down a large hallway.

“Yes, my teeth are still fine.” Jack said as he watched Tooth state at his teeth for a few seconds. She looked away, smiling.

“Sorry…had to check.” She explained. They reached a large wooden door with wood rotting slightly in places. The fairy pushed it open, revealing the Pole’s infirmary.

Despite the fact that it had been left for over seventy years, it still looked almost perfectly well kept; the beds where still clean and the surfaces weren’t dusty. The curtains, unlike the others in the Pole, weren’t moth-eaten and the windows looked like they had been cleaned fairly recently. Jack heard Tooth give a noise of approval beside him.

“The yeti have kept this place clean over the years.” She stated, looking around. “I’m glad they have.”

 _That explains it,_ Jack thought, following the tooth fairy’s gaze around the room.

The spirit had been in the infirmary surprisingly a lot over the past years he spent with the guardians- it was never anything too serious, but every time he sprained his wrist by falling out a tree, or whenever he tried to run down the stairs too quickly and land badly, North would immediately rush over to wherever he was lying sprawled and move him to the infirmary. Usually, however, it would be him _and_ Bunny occupying the infirmary after a prank gone wrong or some play-fighting that got too rough. Still, whist lying in opposite beds, they did their best to outdo each other, trying to resume their previous fight. Or, if one found out the other was in the infirmary, they would sneak in to do pranks so many times that North had to get a yeti to guard the doors until he was finished.

Jack was rudely dragged out of his memories as a pain, sharper than any other he had experienced on his leg, consumed him; he gasped and fell onto the floor, gritting his teeth to stop himself crying out. He heard Tooth let out a sound of shock next to him and felt her feathers brush him as she crouched by his side.

“…get up…bleeding…hear me?” Tooth’s soft voice seemed to faze in and out like a bad radio signal. The pain was building, and the spirit slumped even further, breathing quickly.

 _Why isn’t it healing like the others did? Why does it hurt?_ Jack wondered fully, as black spots invaded his vision. He closed his eyes, dizzy, and let Tooth’s voice wash over him.

“…please…get up…help…” Jack opened his eyes again and looked at Tooth, who looked close to tears. The spirit pushed back the pain, focusing on what she was saying.

“You have to get up…please…your leg is bleeding again…please get up!” The last part came out more like a beg; the spirit gave a small nod, and with her help, he managed to drag himself onto the bed a few metres away.

“Thank you…” Jack gave a small smile to the fairy.

“I should…be thanking you…” he muttered. The pain seemed to be lessening now, and the spirit let his head flop back onto the pillow, sighing.

“I assume that it doesn’t hurt as much anymore?” Tooth asked. Jack strained his neck up again and saw that the fairy was gently cleaning his wound. Beside her, a yeti was passing her the appropriate medical supplies. On her other side there was a small pile of blood stained towels; the spirit let his head fall again, relieved to feel the pain slowly leaving him.

“Yeah…how did you do that?” He asked. Tooth smiled.

“Medical supplies exist, you know…” her smile dropped, “though, you did have lots of nightmare sand in your wound…it looked just like when Pitch…” she cut off, shaking her head, and began to wrap bandages around it.

“I’d be stuck at this point…I was never any good at first aid…” Jack muttered, sighing. Tooth snickered.

“Remember that time you tried to put a plaster of that cut on your hand?”

Jack laughed loudly at the memory.

“Plasters are too sticky…” he said, grinning. Tooth laughed, shaking her head amusedly.

“How did you end up with…over fifty, I think North said- plasters stick to the walls and all over you?!”

“I got a bit carried away…” Jack laughed again, “but I thought that all of those plasters on his fur was a new look for Bunny, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think he thought so, Jack.” The two guardians laughed again, caught in memories.

“Stupid Cottontail…” Jack muttered as the grin slid off his face. He looked at Tooth and saw that she had stopped smiling as well. They both stared at each other for a few moments, their eyes locking into another. Then Tooth remembered she was wrapping Jack’s leg, and began to busily dress it with more bandages. They didn’t speak for the rest of the ordeal, and the only sounds were the ticking of the clock on the wall.

“All done.” Tooth said a few minutes later. Jack sprang up quickly, eager to use his leg again; however the yeti quickly pinned him down again.

“You have to rest it.” Tooth said, watching the spirit struggle.

“No, I don’t.” Jack managed to squirm out of the yeti’s grip and slid onto the floor. Raven immediately raced to his side, nibbling his hair in what seemed to be what he thought was in a affectionate way.

“No. Get off.” Jack protested, pushing his head away. He then proceeded to scratch his muzzle, grinning. “You ready to go?” He murmured; Raven closed his eyes lazily, enjoying the scratching.

“What do you mean, go?” Tooth asked. Jack looked at her.

“I’m going to find another one of Pitch’s bases.” The fairy’s eyes widened.

“Your still hurt! Don’t go!”

“I have to!”

“Then let me come with you!” Tooth yelled, her fists clenched at her sides. Jack shook his head.

“No way.”

“Please!” Tooth persisted. Jack stared at her. “I can fight! I want to help you!” The spirit smiled and limped up to her.

“You can’t. But not because it’s too dangerous.” He explained, seeing her raised eyebrow. “You need to get your believers back.”

Tooth stared at him back, her purple orbs meeting his. She smiled.

“Your right.” She said. “The best way to defeat Pitch-“

“ _Is to gain the believers back.”_ The two guardians said in sync. They looked at each other, then laughed.

“Promise me one thing though.” Tooth said, smiling mischievously.

“Shoot.”

“That you don’t fight Pitch until I’ve knocked another tooth out of his mouth.” Jack grinned.

“You have my word.” He said, bowing mockingly.

“And one more thing.” Tooth said. Jack was about to ask when he found himself getting thrown onto the bed again.

“Rest. At least for today.” She said, placing her hands on her hips.

“You have my word.” Jack repeated dully.

“Good.”


	14. Chapter 14

A howl of rage echoed through the hidden tunnels that lay underground, and shadows scattered through cracks of rock quickly, avoiding their master’s rage.

Pitch Black snarled at the empty set of chains in front of him, chains that once held the Tooth Fairy tight in their grasp. Now, all that remained was a single, pink feather, torn in the corner of the cell.

The Boogeyman moved over to this feather, picking it up in his long, grey fingers.

“How did you?” He muttered, staring at the remaining piece of his prisoner. “How could’ve you? There was no possible way out of here…” Pitch looked over to the remains of his loyal nightmare; what once was a colossal bear was now a small pile of black sand. He had been so sure that that creation would never fail him, but now he could see it wasn’t enough.

But what about the other guardians, still trapped in their cells? Sure, the Nightmare King had recently visited one of his retreats, checking the amount of nightmares in the area, but he had never checked on the prisoners themselves for a good fifty years- that is, if you didn’t count the recent talk with the fairy. Could they have found a way to overcome his power. Impossible. But…

No.

He was sure, confident, that the guardians couldn’t have escaped, or found a way to rebel against his nightmares. With the pitiful amount of lights on the globe, it was a wonder how they were still existing.

Though it would’ve been better if he got rid of all those lights…

Pitch looked at the globe that was partly concealed by the small cell door, and could see a few lights shining on the surface. He glared at them, before turning his attention back to the feather in his hand. It seemed oddly intact, despite the fact that it should’ve been in a fight with its owner. Though it was torn, it wasn’t dirty or plucked off by force, nor was it stained red…

The Nightmare King dropped the feather and watched it float gently to the floor, landing directly on top of the black sand.

It must be something else, then. Something else was helping these guardians- it was simply impossible for them to do it alone. Another spirit, maybe?

Or maybe, one particular spirit…

“No!” Pitch said aloud, snarling. “How?!” He listened to his voice echo across the tunnels, deep in thought.

He had searched everywhere for that spirit, that _guardian_ , and never found him. Not alive.

 _Not dead, either…_ a nagging voice pointed out in his head. _You never found the body._

But he watched Jack Frost die! He watched as he collapsed to the floor, he watched his blade sink into his stomach and out of his back. There was no way that he could ever survive that, immortal or not. He had assumed, after not finding him alive, the remaining guardians had buried him.

But, for the first time, Pitch felt a small stab of doubt in his mind.

Though he was _certain_ Jack Frost was dead, _certain_ that there was no way out of his prisons, _certain_ that he, Pitch Black, had defeated the guardians- _all of them…_ he felt that he had to check.

“I’ll check on the rabbit first…” Pitch muttered, closing his eyes in thought. “Then the old man…then the Sandman…” he glared at the single, pink feather one last time before turning on his heel and exiting the small cell.

There was nothing to doubt, really…just a minor inconvenience to him. Maybe the fairy was a fluke…if not, whoever did this would pay…

The Nightmare King summoned the shadows, sinking into the walls.

Jack Frost was dead. He watched him die.

Jack Frost was dead.

 _But,_ the voice nagged, _you can’t be sure._

—

“So there’s nothing I can say to persuade you to stay longer?”

Jack grinned at Tooth fondly, rolling his eyes.

“Nope.” He reassured, climbing onto Raven’s back.

He was standing outside the Workshop, ready to leave. Tooth was next to him with two snow globes in her hands: one for herself, and one for him.

“Why the South Pole, anyway?” Tooth asked, handing the spirit the smaller snow globe. “What makes you think that Pitch would make a base there?”

Jack looked away, so the fairy couldn’t see any conflicting emotions.

“Gut feeling.” Jack replied in what he hoped was an offhand tone, lying through his teeth.

He didn’t want to tell Tooth, or the other guardians, why he actually wanted to check there. He had been thinking of possible locations throughout the day before, stuck in bed, and the South Pole was the only one he came up with.

A certain place in the South Pole.

Jack noticed that Pitch liked trophies. Like the bed he found in Burgess. And then he remembered the sculpture that he had accidentally made whilst fighting Pitch on his own for the first time.

And if Jack knew Pitch, he would definitely boast about the victory.

But he couldn’t say anything about this fight, and hadn’t for several years, to the rest of the guardians because…

He didn’t know.

Maybe it was the fact that he still felt like it was his fault, or the fact that he was sure the guardians would blame themselves for the event somehow, or maybe just because he wasn’t used to telling anybody anything about himself. Whatever it was, it had stopped him from telling the truth. Whenever the guardians asked about it he would smile lazily, replying:

_“Just flew around for a while…around the South Pole…”_

“Good luck.” Tooth beamed up at him, smashing her snow globe to the ground. It made a swirling purple portal beside her, big enough for her to jump through.

Jack grinned and raised a hand to wave.

“You too. Tell Baby Tooth I said hi.” He said. The fairy smiled and waved back at him.

“I definitely will…once I manage to say hi to all of my fairies…” she jumped into the portal in front of her, leaving nothing but a medium turquoise feather.

Jack, spotting it lying in the snow, slid off Raven again and picked it up, twisting it in his hand.

“Cool…” he muttered, stroking it gently. Suddenly, he was struck with an idea. “Maybe…” The spirit formed a small, needle-like icicle in his two fingers, stabbing his sword into the snow. Then, he raised the needle to his right ear, hovering it a few inches from the spare skin underneath.

“I hope this looks good…” Jack stabbed the needle through the skin, hissing at the small pain that seemed to burn it.

 _Is that how humans pierce ears?_ He wondered, wiping away some blood. _No wait…they use big gun things. I prefer my way._

The spirit, being careful not to cause any damage, made a small hoop of ice around the feather’s quill, leaving a small gap in between. Smiling, he then gently inserted the hoop into his piercing hole, and finally sealed the rest of the hoop so it wouldn’t fall out.

“How do I look?!” Jack asked Raven, spinning around to show the new piercing in his ear. The feather moved with him, brushing against his neck.

Raven Wing snorted, and the spirit swore he rolled his eyes before kneeling down, ready for the spirit to mount.

“Oh- right…sorry, Raven…” he apologised, climbing on his back.“Thanks for reminding me...lost track of time…” Jack dropped the small snow globe on the snow beside them, scooping up his sword as he did so. The portal opened, and Raven ran through, Jack giving a small victory whoop.

—

“I knew it…can you see them all, Raven?”

Jack was currently wedges between two ice glaciers with his stallion beside him, watching the nightmares prowl in and out of the shadows. There movements were agitated, however, unlike the ones in Burgess, and they seemed to be twice as many guarding the ice sculpture that stood in the centre of them.

“There’s something wrong…” The spirit muttered, staring harder at the horses. “Why are all of them so…on guard?” He turned his attention over to the small cave underneath the sculpture, where two more nightmares walked out.

“Well, it’s only going to get worse at night…” he muttered, standing up from his crouch. “Will you wait again?” He asked the stallion next to him. It nodded, nuzzling its master. Jack smiled, taking his fingers through his white locks.

“See you…I hope…” Jack sprang out of the small gap, holding the sword above his head. The feather brushed against his cheek, and it felt like If was reassuring him that, whatever happened, he would be alright in the end.


	15. Chapter 15

Jack looked at the remaining nightmares that surrounded him as they backed away slightly, tripping over their own feet in haste to get away.

“You lot fought like idiots…” The spirit addressed to them, swinging his sword in his hand. Around him, piles of frosted black sand shifted in the bitter wind that seemed to surround Jack like a cocoon, and the snow that once fell lazily from the sky was now twisted in a blizzard that made the spirit’s hair rise and frost over, along with the long coat he wore. His eyes were glowing a bright blue and he had a small smile on his face that winners get when they know they’re going to win.

In short, Jack Frost looked terrifying.

Maybe it was the fact that the spirit was tired of fighting at this point, or that the feather that now was pierced into his ear was a constant reminder of who he was doing this for.

But probably, it was because he knew exactly who Pitch held prisoner in here.

How?

Because, half-concealed in the snow, there was a single, blue Easter egg lying in front of the colossal sculpture. And it made Jack’s blood boil seeing it there, as if it was a trophy, or a warning.

Whatever it was, it was the reason why Jack decided to slay all the nightmares without mercy, imagining that each and every one of them was Pitch Black himself.

“Where are you going?!” He yelled at the remaining nightmares which were staring at him. One of them had tried to scuttle away to warn their master, but it was too slow. The spirit quickly changed his sword into a bow and shot the horse down a few metres from the entrance.

“Come on, aren’t you gonna fight?” Jack asked, landing lightly on his toes. The nightmares surged forward together, falling for the jibe, screeching in rage. Jack let himself smile briefly, then switched his bow into the scythe. He hadn’t seen what its potential was yet, and was looking forward to finding out.

Quickly, the spirit jumped into the air, using the wind as support, and sliced the last nightmares in one swing. The horses froze for a few seconds, then burst into piles of dark sand that were coated in frost.

“Nice…” Jack muttered, lowering himself to the ground again. He swung the scythe in his hand for a few seconds before realising what his task was.

The spirit walked over to the entrance cautiously, holding his weapon out in front of him, and pulled his hood up so it shadowed his face completely apart from his eyes, which stood out against the darkness.

 _And I’m taking this with me, thanks…_ Jack thought, picking up the egg that had begun the violent fight. _I’m returning it to its owner._

—

“Come on, what’s wrong with a visit every now and then, hmm?”

The Nightmare King stared at the Easter Bunny, chained to the wall with new, spiked chains that dug into the prisoner’s wrists. It had been extremely satisfying, in Pitch’s opinion, to test them on the guardian in front of him, and smile every time he heard a hiss of pain, or grin each time his entire body flinched. It was annoying, however, at the fact that the rabbit hadn’t cried out. Oh well. He would just dig them in harder on the next guardian he was due to visit. Probably the Christmas one.

Pitch had decided to go to his hideout in Antarctica first, as he felt the Easter Bunny would be the biggest threat. But he needn’t have worried. The guardian was still chained to the wall, glaring daggers. No change. Still, he decided to change the chain design…for the _fun_ of it.

“Why the sudden change, ya Scumbag?” The Easter Bunny asked in a low growl. The chains were paining him, and as Pitch watched a dribble of blood slide off the wall and to the floor, he grinned in glee.

“I’m sorry, but could you repeat that? You see, I can’t tell what you are saying because of that stupid accent you have…” Pitch answered, staring at the rabbit again. “Now, don’t give me that look!” He said as the guardian sent him a loon that could kill. “I simply couldn’t tell! Oh well…you’ll have to wait an extra seventy years before you ask again…I’m bored of the subject…” Pitch felt the glare follow him as he paced around the room, secretly scanning for any way this rabbit could get out of the cell. But there was none.

_See…nothing to worry about…_

That fairy was just a fluke.

“Like hell ya are.” The Easter Bunny replied rudely. Pitch rolled his eyes, irritated at the fact he was shoved out of his train of thought.

“Please be quiet. Just for a few seconds more.” The Nightmare King snapped, but If was too late. He lost his thought chain. The rabbit wasn’t making it any better.

“Like I’m gonna listen to ya, ya murderer!” The guardian yelled, thrashing his feet angrily.

_I really need to get chains for those legs…_

“Murderer, am I?” Pitch asked, relishing the fear coming off the rabbit. “How am I a murderer?”

—

Jack wasn’t surprised at the fact that there seemed to be no nightmares. He had beaten them all in the fight. Stupid thing to do, really, all rushing out at once into a battle.

The spirit hummed quietly to himself as he strolled down tunnel that slopes deeper into the maze. Luckily, this one wasn’t as dark as the last one- in fact, it was brightly lit, making his life easier.

“Come on…where is it?” Jack muttered. The tunnel seemed to be going on forever, and sloping more downwards as it did so. Also, it was getting progressively smaller the further he walked to the point that he had to stoop to fit inside without crawling.

“Where are you, Kangaroo?” The spirit whispered, changing his scythe back to his daggers so it would be easier to move. “Where’s he hiding you?”

—

Bunny had hated lots of people in his long life. Some even to the extent of loathing. But he had never hated anyone more that Pitch Black, especially now.

He was grinning, staring into his eyes, knowing exactly why he had been called a murderer, but he wanted to torture Bunny first. And Bunny hated him for it.

The guardian of hope hadn’t been expecting this _lovely_ visit today, or ever. Once Pitch had successfully captured him and put him in his cell, he had left him alone to think about everything that had happened.

And what did he think of?

Jack Frost.

He had _hoped_ that he was still alive for the first ten years, expecting the spirit to walk in any second, grinning lazily. But as a decade turned into two, his hope began to fade of the spirit’s return.

The last time he had seen Jack Frost was when he and the remaining guardians had lowered him into the ice as nightmares reigned overhead.

Even then, the spirit still hadn’t woken, despite all of their desperate begs and pleas.

The last time he saw him _awake…_ he didn’t want to think about it.

He then assumed, after sixty years, Pitch had killed Jack, or Jack had simply stopped breathing. In both of these scenarios Pitch was to blame. Pitch was a murderer.

 _And he knows it,_ Bunny yelled in his head, _he knows and doesn’t care._

“You were so chatty a minute ago…I can’t wait all day…” The Nightmare King said, staring up at him. Bunny growled and was about to respond when he saw something behind the Boogeyman that puzzled him.

Two blue spots seemed to be looking straight at him, unmoving.

_Not spots…eyes._

And then they were gone as quick as they came.

But there was no one else in the room, he was sure of it. No new scents had alerted him and he couldn’t hear anything, but even a heartbeat, so how…

“You really are as dumb as you look.” Pitch said, pulling him back to reality. The Pooka looked around as saw that the Nightmare King was shrinking into the shadows, smiling cruelly.

And he then heard something.

It was small- tiny, in fact- that he had to strain his ears to hear, but it was a small rustle that seemed to come from the wall close to him. He looked around, but saw nothing.

And then he did.

The blue eyes were back, staring at him unflinching. Then they were gone once more.

“I guess I’ll see you in another…seventy years, would you say?” Pitch, again, made him loose his focus. He growled, not looking at him.

“Don’t be so rude!” The Boogeyman’s reply was followed by a cold laugh that echoed around the small cell. Bunny wasn’t aware that he had left until the laughter had stopped and the cell seemed to grow lighter.

 _Who, or what, was that?!”_ Bunny’s mind quickly flipped back to the intruder that he saw before; he strained his ears again, searching for anything to prove it wasn’t his imagination.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

A rustle.

It was even quieter than the last, but he knew that he was not imagining anything.

Another rustle sounded, and then a small slap of someone’s feet against a rock. These were still extremely quiet.

Nothing, nothing…

Another rustle.

Right behind him.

_It must be hiding in the rock crevices…that had to be behind me..._

“Who are ya?!” Bunny yelled as menacingly as he could. No answer. “I know ya here!”

Nothing, nothing, nothing…

“ _Is he gone?”_

The whisper was soft against his ear; any softer then he wouldn’t have heard it at all.

“Who are ya?” Bunny muttered back, snarling slightly.

 _“Is he gone?!”_ The intruder repeated, slightly louder. Bunny could only presume that it meant Pitch.

“Yeah…why?” The Pooka replied. Suddenly, he felt a slight rush of wind behind him and a loud slap of feet hitting the ground. In front of him, a hooded figure had appeared, face concealed by shadows.

“Who are ya?” Bunny asked for what seemed like the hundredth time, but the stranger didn’t listen. Instead, it seemed to be staring at the cuffs around his wrists.

“Hang on a sec…” the voice was definitely male, and reminded him of someone…but he couldn’t think who. The intruder then brought out two daggers from underneath his cloak that shone oddly in the half-light.

“Who are ya?!” Bunny demanded again.

“Your saviour.” The stranger answered, and Bunny could feel the smile coming off him.

 _Why is that voice so familiar?!_ It was really irritating him.

The intruder suddenly sprang upwards with unnatural grace and sliced one of his cuffs in half. The remains scattered onto the floor with a satisfying _clunk_.

He did the same with the other in the same way, and the Pooka was finally free.

“Thanks…” Bunny said, rubbing his wrists, wincing. He looked over at the stranger, who was watching him with his huge blue eyes. “Anyway… _who the bloody hell are you?!_ ” He practicality shouted at him.

“What? You don’t recognise me?” The intruder answered, laughing.

_That laugh…it can’t be…_

The stranger pulled down his hood, revealing locks of white hair and a large grin plastered on his face.

“Hey, Kangaroo.” Jack Frost said, grinning widely.


	16. Chapter 16

Bunny stared at Jack for a full ten seconds with his mouth hanging open.

“How...what the…” He spluttered; Jack just grinned at the rabbit, biting back a laugh. The Pooka suddenly grabbed the spirit and pulled him into a tight hug.

Jack froze for a few seconds, shocked by the sudden action; slowly, he wrapped his arms around the rabbit, laughing.

“Ya Gumby…” Bunny said, snorting. He pulled out of the hug and ruffled the spirit’s hair. “What the bloody hell did ya do to ya hair?!”

“What? You don’t like it?” Jack teased, “take a look in the mirror, Cottontail.” Bunny laughed, smacking him lightly around the head.

“At least I look good…can’t say the same for ya.”

One point to Bunny.

“Maybe, Kangaroo, but only to other rabbits. Me? Well, I even make baby tooth faint.”

One point to Jack.

Jack grinned, raising his eyebrows triumphantly. The Pooka grinned, shaking his head.

“Are ya sure they’re faintin’?” Bunny asked, “or are they passin’ out in fear after seein’ how _ugly_ ya are.”

Two points to Bunny.

Jack gave a low whistle.

“You’ve gotten good…” he said, stifling laughter. “But don’t worry, that only happens when your standing behind me- your _fluffy_ little face in full view.”

Ten points to Jack. An easy win.

Bunny scoffed, and it soon turned into laughter.

“Ya don’t know when to shut ya trap, do ya?” He said, shaking his head in amusement.

“Nope.” Jack waved one of his daggers in the air like a victory punch, grinning. Bunny studied the weapon properly and realised that it was completely made out of ice. The Pooka looked around, expecting to find the familiar staff that was always slung around the spirit’s shoulder, but, strangely, it was nowhere to be seen.

 _That kid never lets it out of his sight,_ Bunny realised, _so where is it now?_

“Where’s ya staff, mate?” He asked in what he hoped was a casual tone.

“My what?” Jack said, swinging himself around on one foot to face the Pooka again.

“Ya staff, Frosty.” Bunny rolled his eyes, a smile twitching on his lips. “Where did ya put it?”

“Errr…nowhere…” The spirit answered, smiling.

“What do ya mean, nowhere?! Ya alwa-“ Bunny’s annoyed rant was cut off as a burst of light shone in front of him, where Jack was standing.

“Bloody Hell!” The Pooka yelled, shielding his eyes. He heard Jack’s laughter ring out into the cave, and the light slowly faded. Bunny brought his hand away from his face, looking around widely for anything wrong in the cell.

But there seemed to be nothing; all he could see was Jack smirking at him, twisting his staff in his hands.

 _Wait…his staff?!_ Bunny stared, dumbfounded, at the Shepard’s crook, confused.

“What the…” he voiced his only thought out loud. Not only was his staff there, in his hand, but the twin daggers were gone.

_Were those daggers…_

“Those daggers were ya staff?!” Bunny yelled, pointing at the conduct of power. Jack was now in a laughing fit, tears leaking from his eyes. “Bloody Hell, Frosty?! How’d ya do that?!”

“Cool, isn’t it?” Jack giggled, leaning on his crook once more. “And to answer your question…I don’t really know…” the spirit smiled again, though there was nothing funny happening.

“What?” Bunny asked, moving closer to the spirit. He spotted a feather had been pierced in his ear, covered slightly by his hair.

“Is that feather Tooth’s?” He asked, distracted.

“Yeah.” Jack automatically moved his free hand up to it, stroking it carefully.

“Ya found her too?” Bunny said, shocked. Jack smiled.

“Yeah.” He repeated, looking at the large rabbit. “She was in Burgess.” He caught the Pooka’s expression. “She’s fine, don’t worry!” Bunny breathed a sigh of relief. “She’s just gone back to her castle to get some believers.”

Bunny stared at the spirit, shocked.

“How many days has it been since ya woke up, Frostbite?”

Jack looked away and stared at the wall next to him.

“A few. Not many.”

“A few days?!” Bunny exclaimed loudly. He then gave a low whistle. “Jesus, Snowflake…to do all that in a few days…” Jack turned around again, leaning on his staff. “That’s…incredible…”

“Not really…” The spirit blushed slightly in embarrassment. “I haven’t even got you out yet…”

“Rest got a little, will ya?” Bunny moved over to beside the spirit and sat down; he then patted the ground beside him. Jack smiled and obeyed the command, slipping silently down the wall.

Bunny could see, now that he had a closer look at him, the shadows forming under the spirit’s eyes, which got him wondering whether the spirit had even slept after he had been roused from his coma. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he changed the subject, inspired by the armour that the spirit was wearing.

“Ya know, North had tonnes of battles with that thing on.”

“How many?” Jack asked, shuffling closer eagerly. Bunny chuckled.

“More that I can count!” He said dramatically. He looked over at the spirit, who looked like a child would do if they were going to get told an exiting story.

So he wanted a story?

A story he would get.

“One time, North was face-to-face with an army of rouges.”

“Rouges?” Jack questioned. “What are rouges?”

“Nightmares that had no owner. No master to control them.” Bunny answered. He growled. “Horrible Buggers. Anyway:

“ _North was face-to-face with thousands- millions- of rouges. His whole army lay around him, wounded and beaten._

_“But North wouldn’t give up. He was never that kinda man. Instead, he yelled,_

_“ **I will never give up!”** Louder, he chanted this, raising his swords above his head. **“I will not give up for as long as I stand before you with my swords above my head! I will never give up! I will never give up!”**_ ”

“North had an army? Where were you guys?” Jack asked, leaning onto the Pooka, his body trembling in excitement.

“Ya have to remember, this was at the beginning of time.” Bunny answered. “We existed, but we didn’t know about one another.”

“Oh. Carry on.”

_“The nightmares snarled and charged at North, determined to finish him. Any other man would accept this as their end, but not him. Not North._

_“Instead he ran too, yelling a war cry as he charged at these beasts. All the while, he kept chanting,_

**_“I will never give up! I will never give up!”_ **

_And the battle began._

_But North wasn’t hurt. Every nightmare that seemed to head-but him turned into ash. He dodged with ease, slicing their heads as easily as you could slice butter. And all while, he kept chanting,_

**_“I will never give up!”_ **

_And as quickly as it had begun, the battle had ended. North, standing victorious, with only a few wounds, with his swords in the air._

**_“I will not give up as long as I stand before you with my swords above my head.”_ ** _He yelled triumphantly, staring at the moon. The moon stared back, reflecting the light off his armour. The armour that North had crafted himself, with the help of his oldest friend, that had stopped any shadows from harming his torso._

_And so North looked up at the sky, smiling at his friend._

**_“I am glad you are with me.”_ ** _He said and lay his swords on the ground._

_The battle was won.”_

“Whoa…” Jack muttered, half asleep on Bunny’s shoulder. “North was a badass.”

Bunny was about to answer when the wall opposite them burst open, releasing some very angry nightmares. Both guardians sprang up in a protective stance. As more nightmares streamed through the entrance, Bunny had to admit to himself that they were truly cornered.


	17. Chapter 17

Jack should’ve known better.

Instead of leaving the cell immediately, he decided to rest for a while with Bunny, and listen to a story. And because of that one action, that one _selfish_ act, they were now surrounded by the meanest looking nightmares he’d seen.

And he was doubting whether they would get out alive.

The nightmares circled closer towards them, snorting and grinding their hooves on the ground. Jack realised that if he didn’t stop thinking about his past actions, they would soon be a mess of shattered bones on the ground.

_Come on, there’s gotta be a way out…_

The spirit searched the floor, then the walls, and finally the ceiling, to see if there were any cracks or openings hidden in the shadows.

“What abou’ there?” Bunny muttered beside him, twitching his hand slightly towards the right. Jack looked down and saw a small opening in the top corner of the cell. The horses moved closer again, and the spirit shook his head slightly.

“It’s too small.” He muttered to the rabbit, backing further against the wall.

“It’s our only chance.”

“I can see that, Kangaroo.” Jack but his lip, thinking. But nothing came into his head. “Maybe I could blast it apart…” Jack looked at his staff, and then back up at the crack. “But the whole thing will cave in.”

“Ah.” Bunny said, moving closer to Jack as the nightmares pushed close, leaving only a few metres of space in between. The spirit raised his staff, preparing to fight- even though it was a battle he would lose.

“I say go through the hole.” Bunny said, lowering his ears, “blow it up.”

Jack had to admit, it sounded better than getting torn apart.

“Yeah. I agree.” The spirit eyed the crack and raised his staff towards it. The nightmares immediately surged forward, just as Bunny shouted “Now!”

Jack blasted the crack apart with one ice blast and grabbed Bunny’s arm. A nightmare lunged ahead of the others, and managed to bite onto one of the rabbit’s foot.

Bunny yelled, Jack shouted and the other nightmares shrieked.

“Fuck!” Bunny swiftly kicked the nightmare’s face, tearing it off his foot; Jack pushed the other guardian forward and whacked the nightmares away with his staff. Bunny scrambled in the hole quickly as the nightmares pounced angrily.

“Frostbite!” The Pooka yelled as the younger guardian disappeared from sight, covered by a crowd of nightmares. Some other nightmares began to climb up the wall, using the crevasses as supports.

Bunny was having none of it.

He punched, bit and kicked the nightmares away, always trying to spot a flash of white within the mass of black.

Then the ceiling began to cave in.

It was small at first- just a few pebbles- but it soon turned into a shower of rocks the size of tennis balls; now, the situation they were stuck in had turned into chaos.

Nightmares began to fight harder as their numbers dropped because of the steady collapse of the cell. The stones hit Bunny like bullets, but he stayed where he was, searching…

And then Jack was there, against the wall. He had leapt out the crowd with a few bruises and a bleeding head, and now was trying to climb the wall, holding his staff between his teeth. But the wall was crumbling, and the spirit couldn’t get a grip; he would only get so far before slipping down again. The nightmares, noticing his absence, began to circle beneath him, dodging rocks neatly.

“Come on, Frosty!” Bunny held out his paw, stretching as far as he could without falling himself. Jack reached out, wobbling, and tried to grip onto it.

But he missed. 

Bunny stretched further, grinding his teeth. The spirit let out a small squeak as he slid down the wall and the nightmares reared on their hind legs, snapping the space a few centimetres away from his feet.

“Come on, ya can do it…” The Pooka said. As more rocks fell at a alarming rate, Jack began to climb again determinedly, hooking his fingers into the remaining cracks. Bunny reached out again, and the spirit paused before extending his arm slowly. 

And finally, the Pooka managed to grasp Jack’s hand and pulled him upwards, into the crack.

“Thanks.” Jack said breathlessly, spitting out his staff.

“No problem, Snowflake.” Bunny smiled; Jack snorted and was about to send back a remark when the hole finally caved in in itself, trapping them inside.

Jack’s last logical thought was _‘shit.’_ Before darkness engulfed his vision.

—

Bunny coughed as he pushed the last of the rocks off his legs. Somehow, he had managed to find a way out of the stones that buried him, and now he was squinting in the darkness and dust, looking for Jack Frost.

The spirit had been in front of him when the tunnel collapsed, smiling carelessly.

And now he was nowhere to be seen.

Buried under the rubble.

“Frostbite!” Bunny meant to shout, but it came out as a whisper, then a cough. He tried again, clearing his throat.

“Jack!” His voice echoed down the ruined cave, but no answer came. “Shit.” Bunny muttered, and began to sniff the rocks, trying to locate the spirit.

There.

A slight scent of peppermint and fresh snow briefly was detected in the air. Bunny immediately crouched closer, his injured leg limp beside him, and began to move some of the rocks away. The scent began to strengthen, and after what seemed like hours, the Pooka finally unearthed a hand.

“I got ya, Frostbite.” Bunny muttered, digging. He moved up to his torso, then his neck, until he finally found the spirit’s head.

Jack, thankfully, seemed alright, apart from the fact that he was unconscious. A thick trickle of blood was running down his face and into his hair, staining it red.

“Wake up, Frosty.” Bunny said, tapping his cheek. Jack didn’t respond; the Pooka sighed and gently began to pick him up, brushing the dirt off the black armour and coat.

Carefully, Bunny began to struggle over the rocks, Jack safely in his arms, following the scent of fresh air. It had been a few minutes of him walking before he saw the first glimpse of light, and that was when Jack began to stir slightly, furrowing his eyebrows. The Pooka stopped, crouching in the small, dark tunnel as the spirit slowly regained consciousness; his eyes cracked open, unfocused.

“Frosty?” Bunny whispered, moving into a more comfortable position. When there was no answer, the Pooka tried again. “Jack?”

Jack looked around and spotted Bunny crouched over him; he smiled at the sight, letting out a small snort.

“What happened?” He asked, his smile faltering as he studied their surroundings.

“Ya got knocked out.” Bunny answered, beginning to walk again. Jack tipped his head over to the side drunkly so he was looking in the direction they were travelling in.

“Where’s my staff?” He asked.

“Next to ya.”

“Oh yeah…”

Daylight suddenly shone over them, making Jack groan and Bunny sigh in relief.

“‘Bout time!” The Pooka yelled, staring at the snowy landscape.


	18. Chapter 18

Bunny shivered as a not-so-welcoming wind wrapped itself around him, coating his fur with snow and frost. Usually, the Pooka would let out a string of colourful curses at this point, but this time he laughed loudly. It had been too long since he felt any kind of wind in his fur, and he couldn’t remember the last time he saw something besides cold, grey walls.

Jack was still lying in his arms, but was propping himself up slowly, wiping some blood from his eye. He looked around blearily.

“We’re out?” He said, surprised. Bunny looked down at the bewildered spirit, who was studying some blood on his finger in a confused way.

 _Still out of it._ The Pooka noted.

“Well done, Frosty.” He said sarcastically, a smile twitching on his lips. “Ya lead us out, remember?”

Jack furrowed his eyebrows, thinking.

“Oh…” He said slowly, closing his eyes to block out the light. It was making his head ache more. “Where are we?”

Bunny sighed.

“Just outside the entrance to tha’ place.” Jack suddenly rolled out of his arms, making him yell in surprise. “Where are ya goin’?!” The Pooka yelled. Jack was now standing himself up with his staff, swaying alarmingly. He was muttering something under his breath as he scanned the floor.

“What are ya doin’?” Bunny asked carefully, alarmed by the strange behaviour. Jack didn’t answer and suddenly dropped down on his knees, still muttering something. The Pooka grew more alarmed and picked up the spirit’s staff, deciding whether he should use it to knock Jack out again. Having an unconscious Jack was better than a insane Jack.

“Jack?” Bunny said softly, creeping closer. Jack suddenly sprang upwards again with a wide smile on his face; the Pooka stepped back to avoid getting head-butted by an crazy winter spirit.

“I got it!” Jack said, grinning. He was waving something in front Bunny’s face, but he couldn’t make out what it was.

“Got what?!” He said, catching Jack’s waving arm. The spirit uncurled his hand to reveal a small Easter egg, covered in frost.

“I found it earlier and I can’t remember whether I dropped it or not…” Jack rambled, and thrust it into the Pooka’s outstretched paw. Bunny looked at it, shocked. He remembered this egg. It was the last one he had painted until he had been captured by the nightmares.

“It’s yours. Keep it.” Jack said. Bunny nodded, smiling.

“Ya know, ya quite sensitive when ya got concussion.” He teased. Jack snorted, grabbing his staff from the rabbit.

“Am not.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“No!”

“Yeah!”

“No!”

“Alright, Frosty, keep ya hair on.” Bunny snorted, ruffling his hair gently. “Ya know, ya look like a girl like that.”

“You know, you look like a Kangaroo.” Jack shot back, stumbling slightly in the snow. He looked like a new-born fawn trying to walk.

“Ya good with walkin’, Frostbite?” Bunny asked, steadying the spirit.

“Yup…”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” Jack tripped and quickly steadied himself with his staff. “Besides, we can go soon…I just need to find my horse…”

“Ya horse?” Bunny questioned. Jack didn’t answer and kept walking, wiping some blood from his forehead that had leaked over his eye. Not for the first time, Bunny grew alarmed at the action; he also noticed that the spirit was limping, though it looked like he was trying his hardest to try it.

“Are ya sure ya are ok?” Bunny asked. Jack laughed.

“Who’s sensitive now, Kangaroo?” He taunted, avoiding a pile of frosted black sand. Bunny was distracted momentarily, staring at the pile.

“Was this a nightmare?” The Pooka asked, poking it with his foot.

Jack looked at it for a few seconds, tilting his head.

“Yeah…I killed it.” He said casually, using his staff to steady himself again.

“Bloody hell, Frosty.” Bunny said, “remind me not to get on ya bad side…” he shivered as the cold finally began to affect him. Jack grinned at the Pooka and waited for him to catch up before walking again.

“Frostbite.”

“Yeah?”

“What is that?” Bunny pointed to his left, where a horse with frost patterns was standing silently, watching them. Jack looked around, stumbling again.

“It’s my horse!” He yelled excitedly, grinning. He turned to Bunny. “Don’t worry, he’s tame.” Bunny snorted, rolling his eyes.

The horse ran forwards and thrust its head into Jack’s chest, nearly making him topple over. The Pooka watched the horse, mouthing a curse in shock.

The horse was huge.

And it looked like a nightmare, not a horse.

“Where did ya find it?” Bunny asked, stepping back cautiously. Jack smiled and lead his horse over to the rabbit. “Don’t get that thing close, Frosty.” Bunny warned, stepping back again. The horse looked more menacing now, staring down at the rabbit.

“Keep your fur on, Cottontail.” Jack grinned, “like I said, he’s tame.” The horse tilted his head curiously, stepping closer.

“Hold your paw out.” Jack ordered, smiling reassuringly.

“Frost-“

“He’s fine, I promise.”

Bunny sighed and held his paw out slowly, gritting his teeth. He didn’t like nightmares.

Not at all.

“Come on, Raven…” Jack muttered to the horse. “I promise this Kangaroo doesn’t bite.” The horse, Raven, stretched his neck out forward and sniffed Bunny’s paw. Then, slowly, the stallion nuzzled it, laying back his ears. Bunny found himself smiling, and patted Raven gently.

“Ya big softie.” He muttered. He saw Jack smiling behind his horse, raising an eyebrow.

“Shut ya trap.” Bunny said before the spirit could say anything. He looked back to Raven, who was closing his eyes lazily.

“Ready?”

Jack had moved to his side, and was holding a small snow globe.


	19. Chapter 19

The Warren was abandoned, and had been for some time. Unlike The Workshop, nothing or no one had survived the attack that Pitch had send shortly after Jack Frost’s ‘death’; instead shattered remains of eggs and stones littered the grounds, and nightmare tracks had made an imprint in the walls and trees. If someone was to go inside now, it wouldn’t be recognisable and could be easily mistaken for a wasteland.

That was what Jack thought when he entered the Warren for the first time since his ‘death’, anyway. It was sad, in his opinion. Not raging, not upsetting, not depressing. Just sad. Sad that there was no longer any annoying eggs wobbling over the grasslands. Sad that the once proud oak tree that had grown in the centre of the Warren was now covered in chips and hoof marks. It was just sad. But, deep down, he had been expecting it. After seeing the Pole in ruins, Jack had developed a wall that would stop his emotions rushing out of him.

He had done this before, before he met the guardians and for some time afterward. After learning that he couldn’t be seen- he was practically a ghost- Jack struggled to handle the sadness that seemed to trap him. So the wall got built in his mind, shutting his feelings away for anyone to see. Granted, there was a few times where The was would be close to breaking, or shattering into pieces. And sometimes it had, when everything, every person that passed through him, got too much and it would leave Jack in a snivelling, screaming, emotional mess. It would soon become well known among other spirit’s that Jack Frost did not care about anyone, and could not feel because his heart had frozen.

But then the guardians came and changed everything. To see other immortal beings not afraid to show how they felt…it unnerved Jack a little. It was like he was looking at some aliens, not his own kind. But the spirit of winter kept his wall up, he promised himself he would, he didn’t want to give away his feelings to people he couldn’t trust.

The days turned into months and the months turned into years and Jack found himself (against his wishes) beginning to trust the ones that had neglected him for so long. And one day, he was completely caught off guard as he was sitting by his lake, staring into nothing. All the guardians suddenly seemed to come out of nowhere, and sat beside him. And then…

Jack pushed back the memory, focusing back on reality. Bunny was next to him, staring at the destruction of his home, apparently in shock. The spirit studied him for a few seconds and, a sharp pain from his head injury acting as a reminder, he took the Easter Bunny’s paw and began to slowly walk forwards, avoiding the sharp pieces of stone and eggshells that threatened to cut his feet. And that was the last thing he needed. He only had one leg fully functioning after the other had began to hurt him again after the rockfall, and he wanted to keep at least one working.

Something caught his eye from the right. A purple amongst the grey and brown. Jack searched the grounds until he found it again. A purple amongst the grey and brown.

The flower wasn’t really that pretty, as it hung from its stalk in an awkward fashion. It wasn’t really that unique, either. Just plain purple. However, somehow, it had managed to grow and live and flourish in the ruins that surrounded it, and that was pretty impressive. Pretty impossible, in Jack’s opinion. But there it was, woven between the chunks of rocks, dancing gently in the wind. The spirit let go of Bunny and moved closer, until he was crouching beside it, touching its soft, plain petals. A scuffle of stones told him that Bunny had moved next to him, out of the trance he was in earlier. None of them spoke for a while, dumbstruck.

“Would ya look at that.” Bunny spoke first, breaking the silence. Jack nodded, smiling.

“How on earth did it grow?” He asked to himself, so he was surprised when Bunny answered.

“That’s hope, tha’ is.” At this point, Jack would usually roll his eyes, or snort in amusement, but the truth was, he was thinking along the same lines as the Pooka. “It’s managed to grow, amongst all of this mess,” the rabbit gestured to the rubble that surrounded them, “an’ yet, it’s thrivin’. If this thing can grow tha’ easily, then I can fix this.” Jack smiled, thanking the moon that the Easter Bunny he knew was back.

“I’ll help too, you know.” Jack said, picking himself up from his crouch. He stumbled, his bad leg and his head protesting at the movement.

“Oi! Ya are comin’ with me first, Frosty.” Bunny stood up tapping his foot. “I’m gonna sort tha’ head of yours. An’ tha’ leg whilst I’m at it.”

“Buuunnnyyyy!”

“Stop with the whinin’” The Pooka made his way to the oak tree, with Jack trailing miserably behind.

—

“Ow.”

“Shut ya trap.”

“But it hurts.”

“I’m warnin’ ya Frosty.”

Jack pouted, wincing as the foul smelling liquid got dabbed on his head by a (surprisingly) gentle paw. The liquid, though getting rid of any infection, made his head thump and sting. He wasn’t joking when he said it hurt.

“Ow.” Jack repeated dully, holding back a yell of pain.

“Almost there.” Bunny answered, flicking his eyes to the spirit briefly. The spirit gritted his teeth, suppressing another yell.

“This is meant to be helping?!” He asked, cursing under his breath. Bunny didn’t answer, and removed the tissue.

“All done.” The Pooka threw the tissue beside the slightly dusty first-aid kit that had been found underneath the roots of the oak tree. Jack sighed in relief and lay back against the tree trunk, closing his eyes.

“Okay, Frostbite?” Bunny asked as he searched through the first aid kit for something else which the spirit couldn’t be bothered to investigate.

“Yeah, Cottontail. Keep your fur on.” Jack grinned as the pain began to numb.

“Let’s take a look at tha’ leg, then.” Jack opened his eyes, confused. He never told the rabbit about the leg bite. “Only a airhead like you would not see tha’ you were limpin’” The Pooka said, raising an eyebrow. “Come on. Stretch it out.”

“But Tooth has already treated it!” Jack protested, sitting up straighter. “I don’t need it looked at again. Seriously. I’m fine.”

“Then why were ya limpin’?”

“…it just began to hurt again…”

“Okay. Stretch it out.” Bunny ordered, twitching his ear. Slowly Jack extended his leg, muttering curses in annoyance. Bunny rolled his eyes and carefully began to remove some of the material around the leg.

“Ouch.” Bunny muttered, studying the injury. Though frost had covered almost all of the injury, deep cuts and bites were still visible underneath.

“What the bloody hell happened to ya leg?!” Bunny asked, routing through the box again.

“A nightmare-bear attacked me.”

“Can ya ever get outta somethin’ without getting’ hurt, Frosty?”

As Bunny silently worked, Jack closed his eyes again, letting himself relax. His mind began to drift, and he jumped slightly when Bunny spoke again.

“It’s done. Tooth did a good job.” Jack opened one of his eyes, looking down at his leg. It now was bound neatly in a bandage.

“Sorry if I woke ya, Frosty.” Bunny said, studying the spirit. Again, he noticed the dark shadows under his eyes, and the way his head hung in exhaustion. “Ya can go back to sleep if ya like.”

“I’m not tired.” Jack replied, lying though his teeth. He quickly changed the subject. “Is there any way to contact Tooth from here? I told her I would tell her when I got back…”

“Already did. When ya were zoned out.” Bunny said; he studied the spirit, wincing at the reaction the fairy would give when she saw them both covered head to foot in dust and dirt.

“She’s gonna have a fit when she sees us.” Jack said, speaking his thoughts.

“Brace yourself, Frostbite.”


	20. Chapter 20

“Jack! Bunny!”

Jack turned his head and saw Tooth flying towards them, beaming. Bunny looked up and smiled back at the fairy, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“You’re both okay!” Tooth flew straight into the other guardians and hugged them tightly. Jack laughed and hugged her back. As Bunny wrapped his arms around them all, Jack felt a happiness that seemed to spread through his entire body. It had been too long since he had hugged someone like this; even before he fell into a coma, before he got impaled by Pitch, Jack had only ever hugged the guardians when he had been upset and even then, it was never him that started them.

But to be squashed on the middle of a hug, laughing? It felt amazing to the spirit. Even though the guardians weren’t complete yet, it still felt,

 _Nice…_ Jack thought through his laughter, _this feels nice._

The hug didn’t break for a while, and when it did, it was only because Tooth saw all of the dirt and rubble that was littered in Jack’s hair and Bunny’s fur.

“What happened?” The fairy asked, breaking the hug to get a better look at her two companions. “Why are you both covered in dirt?!”

“Easy, Shelia.” Bunny said, shaking himself to try and get rid of some of the rubble. Jack yelled as the dirt showered over him instead. “Sorry, Frostbite…it was just because of a rock slide, no need to worry.”

“A rockslide?!” Tooth nearly screamed, staring at them wide-eyed. She suddenly bean herding the two guardians against the oak tree. Bewildered, they did as she wanted, sitting down on the gravel and grass. The fairy sat down in front of them, eyes narrowing.

“Tell me what happened. Now, or I swear I will-“

“Okay!” Jack replied hastily, raking a hand through his hair. “It sounds a lot worse than it actually was…”

So they told her what happened in the tunnel: how Bunny heard Jack come in, Jack freed Bunny- Tooth winced when they described the shackles that had held the rabbit to the wall.

“Why did he do it though?” She asked. Bunny shrugged.

“No idea. He just came in, said some things then buggered off.” He answered. “Besides, I didn’t have them on for long before Frosty here broke them.”

“Do you think…you know…” Tooth began, biting her lip.

“Think what?” Bunny asked.

“That Pitch’s getting pissed.” Jack finished grimly, resting his chin in his hand. Tooth nodded.

“Now that two of us have been freed…he’s going to get suspicious…” she said, looking at them both. “I mean, he’s going to know by now that we didn’t just escape on our own.”

“But will he know it’s Jack that’s doin’ it?” Bunny asked no one in particular, glancing at Jack from the corner of his eye. The spirit didn’t seem too fussed, however, even though his life was on the line. “What if he knows it’s Jack? What then?”

—

Ruins. That was what he returned to. Ruins. Ruins of his fortress, his prison, his retreat; it was just ruins.

The ground had literally caved in, leaving an odd looking dent. Remains of his nightmares left patches of black against the snow covering the landscape.

Freshly fallen snow.

The truth crashed upon the Nightmare King like a tidal wave. Freshly fallen snow. Freshly fallen snow. _Freshly fallen snow._ But it only snowed before he killed Jack Frost, before he _won_ ; yet it had just been snowing.

 _You never found the body._ The voice in the back of his mind nagged, _and now there is proof that he is alive._

“NO!” Pitch Black tore up the snow and the ice in front of him, his nightmare sand churning through the ground and rocks and exploding it upwards into the cold air. The ice and rock cracked open, revealing the maze of tunnels hidden underneath. They too were in ruins.

Pitch’s yellow eyes searched the ground, looking for anything to show how the Easter Bunny managed to escape and create a landslide and destroy his nightmares without any weapons. But, like the fairy’s cell, there was no evidence, none. Just some broken chains covered in dust. Pitch lowered himself down into the ditch and studied them harder, searching…

“Frost…” Pitch muttered darkly, tracing the spiked frost patterns that cut through the nightmare sand. His eyes flared and he crushed the frost in his hand. “Frost!”

How? How could he? He watched him die! But now, he was alive and actively releasing his prisoners in the process, gaining believers, _winning…_

“It won’t be that easy, Jackie.” The Boogeyman muttered, a grin forming onto his face. He was already ahead of him. He had seen the other two guardians, and they were still trapped. He would go to the nearest to here, and wait. He would send all of his other nightmares to the unguarded one.

“It won’t be easy anymore.” Pitch raised himself out of the ditch and mounted his nightmare once more. “If you want to create trouble, then so be it! But believe me, Jackie, you will loose this battle, just like you lost the last…nothing can defeat me, not even you.” He kicked the Nightmare with his heel, and took off into the air, leaving the ruins behind him. Nicholas St North was closest…he would wait there.

—

The three guardians were lying beside each other, their hands (or paws) covered in dirt. Around them, the Warren was almost the same as it was before; the gravel and egg shells had gone and some small, unsteady eggs were moving clumsily around the grounds, others were sliding out of flowers, shells covered in colourful patterns.

Jack, Bunny and Tooth has been working all afternoon cleaning up the Warren (which was momentarily interrupted by a snowball fight) and recovering any eggs that had managed to survive. Bunny had taken care of the flowers, bringing the ones seemingly dead back to life. The oak tree, though it couldn’t be fixed, had been cleared of all of the rubble blocking the roots, and the rooms that were inside it had been refurbished to their original state.

Now, exhausted, the tree guardians were lying in the grass in silence, enjoying the other’s company. Bunny and Tooth had closed their eyes, but Jack kept his open, refusing to sleep. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to, it just was because-

“Ya still awake, Frosty?”

Jack jumped slightly, turning his head to the rabbit next to him.

“Not tired.”

“Liar.”

Silence returned, and the spirit looked back up at the darkening sky.

“Why aren’t ya sleeping, Frostbite?” The Pooka asked, looking at him. Jack shrugged, still not returning the gaze.

“Don’t shrug, Okay?” Bunny propped himself up on his elbow, staring at him. “Look…ya helped me out a lot today, an’…I want to help you now. Please.” Maybe it was because the Pooka was being gentle, or the fact that he said please, but Jack found himself turning to the rabbit.

“I…I just…” Jack cut off, shaking his head.

“Go on.”

“I don’t want to not wake up.” Jack muttered, biting his lip. “I don’t want to wake up and find…I don’t want to find out that I have missed another seventy years.” Bunny listened, staring at the spirit with a mixture of emotions.

“Sounds stupid, I know…” Jack muttered.

“No it doesn’t.” Bunny answered, shaking his head. “I felt just like you do now…when my race got slaughtered.”

Jack stared up at the Pooka, not knowing what to say. Bunny almost never talked about his past life before the guardians, but North had told him in private about some of his history. Things that Jack never wanted to happen again.

“I felt like if I went to sleep, I wouldn’t be able to save anyone else, just in case something happened whilst I was asleep…and there would be nothing I could do to save them.”

“I’m sorry, Bunny…”

“Don’t be. Things happen, and once they happen, no matter how much you bother yourself about it, they will still be apart of history.” The Pooka soothed. “An’ you have to learn to live with it, and not fear it. It may sound hard, even impossible now, but ya must do it. Ya must move on.” Jack still looked nervous, so Bunny spread out his arms. “Come ‘ere.”

Jack scooted closer, leaning into the Pooka’s embrace.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, Frostbite.”

The spirit smiled, closing his eyes.

“I forgot how fluffy you were, Kangaroo.” Bunny chuckled, nudging the spirit with his nose. He could still feel a nervousness coming from the boy in his arms.

“Oh, and Jack?” He said, looking down at the spirit.

“Mmm?”

“If ya do fall asleep for too long, I’ll wake ya, I promise.”


	21. Chapter 21

Jack sighed in his sleep, and rolled over to his side. Bunny and Tooth watched, holding their breaths, not wanting to disturb the spirit’s rest.

It was dawn in the Warren, and the tunnels were filling with the warming sunlight. The hours the three guardians had spent tidying up had been worth it- the Warren now looked unreal, like a painting, instead of looking like a littered wasteland. Multicoloured eggs were now running across the grass eagerly, covered in intricate patterns from the flowers and streams that lay hidden amongst the trees. The rivers and lakes themselves had been cleared of all the dirt and black sand contaminating them and now had been reverted back to there usual colours.

Easter was still quite a long way away, but Bunny didn’t have the whole year to prepare like he usually did; he knew he should be frantic, working overtime to get it done- after all, this would have to be the best Easter to date to win back believers- but instead he was watching Jack Frost sleep in the grass best to him, under an oak tree. 

“I’m glad he’s finally getting some rest.” Tooth whispered, looking fondly at the spirit. Bunny nodded.

“Yeah…we had a chat about it last night, actually.” Bunny watched the sun as it slowly rose above the hills, still not quite believing that he was back in his home, getting ready for Easter. Something that he had almost forgot how to do.

“You did? What happened?” Tooth asked, tilting her head. “I knew that he had a problem with sleeping…”

“Yeah, it was pretty bad- worse than I thought, actually.” Bunny admitted, tearing his eyes away from the landscape. “I knew there was somethin’ botherin’ him when he didn’t go to sleep when I suggested it earlier, before you arrived. So I waited to see if he would go to sleep after we cleaned up my Warren, and my hunch was righ’”

“Did he say why he didn’t want to sleep?” Tooth asked. The was a period of silence where only Jack’s steady breathing was heard. The Pooka felt a small smile twitch on his face as he watched the spirit curl up into a impossibly small ball.

“It took a while to coax it outta him.” Bunny’s smile dropped, thinking back to his last conversation with the spirit. “But he eventually said it. He was scared, Tooth.” He sighed, absentmindedly ruffling Jack’s hair. The spirit muttered something unknown before moving back into sleep mode.

“He was scared of sleeping?” Tooth edged closer to Bunny, keeping her eyes locked on the spirit. “Has he been having nightmares?”

“Not nightmares.” The Pooka cut in, before the fairy started swearing revenge on Pitch. Which is what they all wanted to do, but not with a sleeping Jack Frost beside them. “He was scared tha’ he wasn’t gonna wake up again, or when he did wake up it would be too late.” Tooth’s eyes widened, shining with tears.

“I never realised…I should’ve known about this-“

“Don’t beat ya self up abou’ it.” Bunny put a reassuring paw on her shoulder. “I didn’t know myself, and I thought I was gettin’ good at figuring him out.”

“But there’s always one more layer to him, isn’t there?” Tooth said, laughing slightly.

“Always.”

“He doesn’t know how special he is, does he? To the world. To us.” Tooth whispered as the spirit stirred slightly. For one minute, it looked like they had woken him, but then he curled up in his ball again, cutting himself off from the outside world.

“He never has.” Bunny whispered back. “Look what he has done for us. He’s saved our lives. And even before then, he did something greater; he brought us all together.” Tooth nodded, smiling.

“Do you remember when I would only see you a few times a year? Sometimes it was only once.” She said. Bunny laughed quietly- it seemed so natural for them to visit at least once every two days, he forgot how it used to be.

“Yeah…I think I barely saw North at all. Or Sandy. Or you, for that matter.” He recalled. “I was always in my Warren.”

“I forgot you did that.” Tooth admitted, laughing with the Pooka as quietly as she could. “You would spent 364 days in there most of the time.” They laughed together, startling Jack out of his sleep. The spirit woke up with a start, blearily looking around with sleep-glazed eyes.

“Wha?” He muttered as Tooth and Bunny looked at each other guiltily.

“Sorry we woke you, Sweettooth.” Tooth apologised; Jack, now fully awake, smiled.

“It’s fine…I probably should’ve been awake by now anyway…” Raven, who had been dozing in the sun earlier, now came trotting over to the small group, whining softly in greeting.

“‘Bout time you showed up.” Jack said, sitting up and stroking the horse.

“Ya know, tha’ horse ain’t so bad once ya get used to it.” Bunny said as Raven settled down beside Jack, resting his head on his knee.

“He’s kinda cute.” Tooth added, smiling at the stallion.

—

If Sandy could speak now, he would probably be singing to himself. Not a loud song, but a soft one that could pass off as a hum.

If he could sing, then it would move his focus away from his darkening thoughts. It would make the dark cell seem less suffocating, and more…well, not homey, but manageable. Singing would make the disaster he was trapped in better.

But the problem was, if he _could_ sing, he would probably spent a good few years deciding a song, which didn’t help. Time was the only thing he had to himself here, in this cell walked with black sand. Maybe he could choose a song.

Or maybe he could just talk to himself. Sandy sometimes wondered what his voice would sound like if he had a voice. He wondered whether it would be deep, or gravelly or high or…he could go on forever. If he could talk to himself then he could talk things out and sort his scrambled thoughts. Sandy had heard Jack do it so many times before-

Sandy’s thoughts cut off painfully. Thinking of the spirit was the one thing he had thought about the least during the seventy years he was trapped. It sounded cruel and heartless to admit it but…he never wanted to go back to those painful memories.

Out of his entire history, Sandy had never wished he could speak more then at that moment. The moment where Jack Frost fell to the ground, the sword dug deep into his chest. As he gasped, he wanted to reassure him that everything would turn out fine, like it always did. As he screamed Sandy wanted to comfort him, whisper calming words as he sat beside him. As his eyes glazed over and fluttered shut, Sandy wanted to ask him to wake up, to open his eyes, to _stay alive_. But instead he was forced to stay silent.

As the shrieks of excited nightmares grew louder, Sandy closed his eyes, pretending that he could hear himself humming into the darkness steadily, blocking out the chaos around him.

Suddenly, just as the noise outside reached a new level, one of the walls got blasted apart, scattering stones onto the sandman. Sandy barely noticed, however, as the creature that caused it rose to its full hight. His eyes widened as he took in each red eye, each spoke on its tail, each long, finger like fang. The creature stared at him for a few seconds before hiding into the shadows behind him. Every now and then, Sandy could see two red slits blink before disappearing again as if it was…waiting.

But for what?


	22. Chapter 22

Jack glared back into green eyes determinedly, unflinching. The green eyes didn’t look away either, but narrowed dangerously.

“No. Not if I’m not comin’ with ya.”

Jack sighed for the thirteenth time in a minute, followed by an eye roll.

“You know as much as I do that I can’t let you.” The spirit retorted to the very angry Easter Bunny who was currently growling. “You usually have a full year to prepare for Easter, but not this time. You lot need to keep the believers up.” Jack looked away and stroked Raven, who was waiting patiently behind him.

“I mean, I would help if I could, but I don’t think anyone actually believes in me anymore.” He thought of Jamie. How long had he kept believing in him after that night, when everyone thought he was dead, or stuck in a coma for the rest of time? The spirit pushed the thought out of his head quickly.

“But ya hardly got any rest!” Bunny yelled angrily. Tooth sighed.

“Believe me, I tried persuading him to stay before.” The fairy said to Bunny. “He just won’t listen.”

“No, I won’t.” Jack said, cutting between Tooth and Bunny with Raven following him close behind. “Besides, I think I know where Pitch has hidden someone else.”

“Where?!” The two other guardians asked in sync, forgetting about their previous debate.

“It’s gonna be somewhere hot.” The spirit replied, turning around to face them. “I mean, I’m Jack Frost.”

“But he’s pretty sure you’re dead, mate.” The Pooka pointed out. “Why would he do tha’?”

“Just a hunch.” Jack said, swinging his staff. “If I know Pitch, he would hide one there just in case there was a chance of me being alive.” He grinned. “Plus, Raven knows the way, so if I’m wrong he can lead me somewhere else.”

“Ya can’t go in a desert on ya own!” Bunny yelled, resuming the previous argument. “Ya gonna melt!”

“I won’t. I’m not ice.”

“What about last time ya got sick then?!”

Jack remembered that small too clearly. He just wanted to visit Jamie, even though it was summer.

It didn’t end well, in short.

“I’m not going to stay there.” Jack replied, sticking his tongue out. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Are ya sure about that?”

“Is that a challenge, Cottontail?”

“You bet, Snowflake.”

Jack lunged onto Bunny, sending him backwards. Laughing, the two guardians rolled in the grass, wrestling and yelling. Bunny suddenly picked Jack up and held him upside down by his ankles. The spirit screamed in delight, hitting the Pooka with his staff, weak with laughter. Bunny shook him and Jack screamed again, hooking his staff around the older guardian’s foot and tugging. The rabbit fell to the floor ungracefully and Jack scrambled onto his stomach, pinning his hands down.

“No ya don’t!” Bunny yelled, grinning, and flipped Jack over so the spirit was now the one on the floor. Jack yelled and laughed breathlessly.

“Do ya give up!” Bunny yelled, laughing as Jack struggled beneath him.

“Your- squashing- me…” the spirit wheezed. Bunny grinned.

“Do ya give up?!” He repeated as Tooth laughed behind him. Jack nodded.

“Yeah…I…give…up…”

“Are ya an idiot!”

“YES!” Jack said and Bunny rolled off him, laughing. He forgot how good their play fights were.

“No fair!” Jack said, sticking his tongue out again. “You’re bigger than me!”

“Tough.” Bunny said, smiling. He ruffled the spirit’s hair. “Don’t melt, Frostbite.”

Jack grinned.

“No fear, Kangaroo.” He said, mounting Raven, who had crouched down for him. “Funnily enough, I don’t like the heat.”

“Be careful.” Tooth said, smiling. “And tell me when you actually return this time!”

“Yes, ma’am…” Jack smashed the snow-globe that was in his pocket on the ground. The portal glowed purple and Jack was about to walk through when:

“Oi! Frosty!”

“What is it, Cottontail?” Jack asked, grinning. He turned around and saw that the Pooka was holding a small egg out to him. It was blue with white stripes.

“Got ya somethin’.” Bunny said, smiling. He handed Jack the egg, who took it curiously.

“What is it?” He asked, rolling it in his hand.

“It’s an everlastin’ egg bomb, ya Dill.” Bunny rolled his eyes, a smile twitching on his face. “It won’t ever run out. Ya might need it for a quick escape, so ya not stuck like ya were last time.” Jack grinned, holding the egg tightly in his hand.

“Thanks.” He said, tucking the small weapon in his pocket. Bunny smiled back.

“Don’t do anythin’ stupid.” He said. Tooth nodded in agreement. Jack pretended to look offended, wiping a fake, nonexistent tear from his eye.

“Have I ever done anything stupid?” He asked.

“Tha’ one time ya tried to paint the whole of England red.” Bunny answered immediately.

“Oh, and that time you got one of North’s chairs and attached wheels to it and ride it down the stairs and caused that while in the wall.” Tooth said after, laughing at the memory.

“They were beautiful ideas.” Jack grinned, waving at them. “See ya soon!”

“See ya, Frosty.”

“Bye!”

Jack waved until the portal closed behind him, and he was staring into a desert with nothing in sight apart from a few cacti.

—

“You sure we’re in the right place, big guy?” Jack asked Raven, knowing they were. Why else would a desert have a giant hole in the ground?

They were staring at the entrance from a few metres away, waiting to see if anything would happen. Jack, after a few minutes in the heat, had coated himself with a few layers of frost to try and stop him from “melting”. Luckily, it was nearing night in the desert and the temperature was quickly dropping.

“I think all the nightmares inside.” Jack said, narrowing his eyes. There was no way, at this point, that Pitch hadn’t guessed that Jack Frost was indeed alive and walking.

“I won’t be long.” Jack said to Raven, pulling up his hood. He felt the egg move in his pocket, and the feather brush against his cheek. It was strangely reassuring, like Tooth and Bunny themselves were standing next to him.

“You know the usual. Stay safe. Be ready to run.” The spirit stroked the stallion’s neck. “Thank you.”

He changed his staff into a sword quickly and crept forward, sticking close to the shadows. Still, no nightmares came out of the entrance like last time. It was all too easy.

“Ah well.” Jack muttered, looking down the hole a few centimetres in front of him. “I guess I shouldn’t complain.” He smiled. “I wasn’t particularly looking forward to fighting again.” Pulling his hood up again, the spirit swiftly jumped into the entrance, falling into the dark depths below.

 _If I get out of this alive,_ Jack thought randomly as he fell deeper, seemingly forever, _then I am going to paint the entire world red. Or maybe just England._ He laughed quietly. _Hopefully I won’t get stopped this time by a very angry Sandman._

Suddenly Jack hit the ground on his side. Luckily, the ground was soft, made out of millions of grains of sand.

“Oh good.” Jack muttered, trying to get up. “I’m glad I didn’t break my legs.”

He managed to stand, but was quickly pulled down again. Jack gasped as he looked down, seeing what had caused him to fall.

The sand underneath him had gripped onto his ankle; it looked like a long, black tentacle.

Jack frantically began to try and break free, but the tentacle clutched him harder. More tentacles began to wrap around his arms, his waist, his neck…they began to pull him under the sand, drowning him…

Jack let out a scream of terror.


	23. Chapter 23

What _was_ that?

It sounded like a scream, but how could it be? There was no one here but himself, chained to the wall.

It must’ve been a nightmare call, it must’ve. There was no way it could be anything else but that, Sandy concluded, closing his eyes.

But that sound was filled with nothing but pure terror – how could’ve that been a nightmare. Besides, all the nightmares that were guarding him were gone, replaced with whatever was hiding in the shadows currently, staring at him with glowing red eyes.

Sandy opened his eyes again, and sure enough, the creature in the shadow was staring at him through slitted eyes. This time, however, the glare didn’t make him uneasy, like it had been for the past…however long he had been trapped in the cell with it – the sound was the only thing in his mind, and seemed to echo in his mind long after it had been cut off.

That _was_ a scream, it must be.

But how?

—

Jack struggled underneath the nightmare sand, but it wouldn’t release its grip. He could feel himself getting dragged further and further down; his lungs were ready to burst, desperate to draw a breath, but there was no air to take. Just sand. His sword had slipped from his hand a few minutes ago, and he was completely defenceless. As his vision swam, frost escaped from his fingers; it was something that his powers would often do whenever he was in a bad situation. The frost itself was harmless, Jack knew that, or so he thought.

Through his blurred vision, he could see that the sand seemed to be loosing its grip on the spaces where the ice had spread, and was freezing.

 _These are only grains of sand,_ Jack thought suddenly, _if I freeze the individual grains…_ his thoughts trailed off, the lack of oxygen kicking in. Sand was leaking through his mouth, ears, nostrils…

 _Come on!_ Jack yelled to himself, trying to spread the frost as quick as he could. But he was loosing consciousness, and soon the spirit knew he would be stuck in the sand forever –

And suddenly the sand was loosening its grip, and Jack found he could move his arms.

Using the iced sand as a support, the spirit scrambled upwards, sand now streaming through his mouth. Then he found he could move his legs, and kicked them weakly.

Coughing and gasping, Jack reached the surface and greedily gulped in the air. Panting, he looked around and saw that he had frozen almost all of the sand. Currently, he was grabbing on to a particularly thick piece of ice, half of him still in the sand.

“Fuck…” gasping, Jack hauled himself upwards until he was fully on the ice and lay down, breathing heavily. “F…fuck…damn…” he turned his head so he had a better look at the scene in front of him. Beside him, he could see the hilt of his sword poking out of the sand.

“My sword!” Jack rolled over and reached out. His fingers brushed the sword hilt and grabbed it tightly. Hauling it to his side, the spirit closed his eyes, flashes of the whole ordeal running through his mind.

“That sand was meant to be a trap.” Jack said to no one in particular, organising his muddled thoughts. “Why else would it be right at the entrance? So he knew I was coming…he knows that I’m alive.” Jack sighed, opening his eyes again. “So why hasn’t he tracked me down. Where are all the nightmares?” Jack furrowed his eyebrows, confused. If he were Pitch, he would find the person that was taking away his prisoners.

“I don’t understand.” Jack admitted to himself after a few more minutes of wondering. “Is this whole place a trap? But Raven was certain that this was the place…where are the nightmares?!!” Jack eventually asked in frustration. Suddenly, he remembered when he was in Burgess, where Tooth had been imprisoned; there had been no nightmares there, but apart from the giant bear, which he had to fight. Was it possible that Pitch had pulled the same trick twice?

“Ah fuck.” Jack got up, using his sword as support. He looked around, searching for a way out of the room, and found a small, vent-like space next to him. Specially designed for nightmares.

“Looks like I’m crawling through that thing.” Jack shoved his sword through the space first. “Hope nothing is waiting there.” The spirit said as an afterthought. “Ah well.” He shuffled through the small space, slowly moving through the dark tunnel.

—

Sandy looked away from the creature again but still felt its piecing gaze on him. In truth, the sandman was listening out for any other noises. Though he convinced himself he was imagining it, the defeated guardian still felt like there was someone else here. Why else would Pitch create this nightmare all of a sudden? Maybe…no, it couldn’t be. He couldn’t get his hopes up.

Hissing, the creature slipped further into the shadows, completely concealing itself from view. This made Sandy ponder even more on his thoughts – mainly consisting on the scream. As much as he didn’t like to think that someone could’ve made that sound, he was beginning to believe more and more that someone was in this hidden place with him.

A angry hiss echoed through the tunnels, sounding like the nightmare Sandy had seen earlier. But what made the sandman straighten suddenly was the fact that, along with the hissing, there was loud, human sounding yells could be heard. There was definitely someone here. And they were going to battle the nightmare. Sandy could only wish them luck.

—

Jack yelled as a long, scaled tail thrashed beside him, missing him by inches.

 _So my thoughts were right._ Jack thought, feeling a smile twitch on his lips, despite the circumstances.

The spirit had just entered into a large, dark tunnel. And then this nightmare came, coiling out of the shadows, hissing angrily. To Jack, it looked like a giant snake with rows of fangs and a spiked tail.

“Is that all ya got?!” Jack yelled, laughing as he cartwheeled past the snake’s head as it lunged towards him, snarling.

—

“Is that all ya got?!”

Sandy lifted his head higher, feeling like he had heard that cocky voice before. It had been over seventy years, but he would recognise it anywhere. But how could it be?

How could it be Jack Frost, when he was lying under the ice?

How?

And yet…


	24. Chapter 24

Ok, so maybe that last move was a bad idea.

Jack looked up at the giant snake’s head, which was about to lunge at his throat. It had coiled itself around him after he thought he could jump out of the way in time. His aim was to make it crash into the wall, hopefully stunning it long enough to stab his sword hard into its skull. However, the snake was one step ahead of him, and it now had wrapped itself around the spirit, slowly crushing him to death.

Great.

Jack tried to free an arm again, like he had been doing previously, but they were pinned tightly to his sides.

Just great.

“Give me a break…” The spirit moaned, tossing his head back lazily. “You were in my way…you could’ve moved…but no! _You_ decided to fight me, not _me_. I would never try to fight myself, personally. Not because I’m afraid I’d loose – not that – I’m just too annoying.”

The snake hissed, leering closer to the point that its tongue graced his cheek.

“Easy…” The spirit muttered, trying to shift away. The snake hissed again, opening its jaws wide.

“God damnit!” Jack yelled in frustration; he tried routing through the pocket of his cloak, trying to find something – anything – that would help him. “I don’t want to get eaten by a great, big, dirty snake! No offence.” He added as the nightmare’s eyes slitted. The spirit furrowed his eyebrows, concentrating on the small, oval thing that slipped into his fingers.

“Hey, that hurt!” Jack yelled as the snake squeezed him tighter, to the point where he thought he was going to explode. Could that happen? Well, he was going to find out in a minute.

Jack felt the object in his hand more carefully, suddenly realising what it was.

It was the egg that Bunny had given him before he left. Use it for a quick escape, he had said. A distraction.

Again, desperately, Jack tried to move his arm, wanting to throw the egg in the snake’s smug face, but the grip was simply too tight.

Unless…

A huge explosion of colour suddenly erupted around the snake and over Jack, throwing the spirit backward and into the wall. The snake hissed angrily and thrashed its tail, looking for its victim. However, it was next to impossible to make out anything amongst the clouds of green, blue and pink that now filled the tunnels and rooms next to it. Jack found himself laughing, despite being upside down against the wall, unable too see anything, as coloured paint ran from his brow.

It certainly created a distraction.

To be fair, he wasn’t expecting to be blasted out as if he just been shot out of a cannon; all he wanted was to loosen the nightmare’s grip so he could slip out of the coils and grab his sword - which was now currently a few metres in front of him, slowly getting hidden by the paint powder sinking to the ground. He hadn’t expected for the explosion to be so powerful, and now Jack knew why these eggs killed nightmares.

Speaking of eggs, Jack noticed that the light blue gift was rolling slowly towards him, despite all the chaos. The spirit slipped off the wall and landed on his side with a slap. His armour now had splashes of blue and green in most places, and his feet were bright pink. As the spirit fell, he caught sight of his hair as it fell past his face. He groaned, touching a lock of hair, eyes full of hurt and dread.

“This is going to take ages to wash out…” He muttered. His hair was now ‘decorated’ with a variety of colours, mixed together. He looked like one of Sophie’s colouring books, in short.

“My poor hair. Bunny’s gonna laugh.” The snake hissed again, closer than it was before, quickly persuading Jack to get to his feet and grabbed his sword before it completely disappeared from view. The dye was now fading, allowing the spirit to catch a glimpse of the nightmare’s head. Quickly, Jack dropped into a crouch, grabbing the small egg and putting into his pocket again. He changed his sword into a bow; an arrow formed in his hand, and he placed it in the bow, ready to shoot. The spirit looked up again, through the fading dye, and found that the snake’s red eyes were staring directly at him.

With a hiss, the nightmare charged forward, its tail thrashing in excitement.

The same moment, Jack sprang upwards, pulling back his arrow.

_Almost…almost…_

The spirit waited until he could see the slit-like pupils in the monster’s eyes, then released.

The arrow met its target, straight through the nightmare’s eyes. Black sand erupted on contact, spraying the coloured walls with ebony.

The snake let out a inhuman shriek and skidded across the ground and past Jack, creating a black path. The spirit lowered his bow and wiped a streak of black liquid off his cheek, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“Wow.” Jack muttered, watching the snake twitch for a few seconds before stilling entirely. The spirit switched his bow back into a sword and pulled his hood over his head. Still, it didn’t hide the array of colours that now coated his armour. He looked down at his outfit, sighing, and brushed off the worst of the powder.

“Better go and find whoever is here.” Jack muttered, looking around the ruined battlefield. There were three entrances and two holes that were specialised for nightmares.

“Umm…” Jack span around on his heel, deciding what entrance would lead to the next guardian. He already had ruled out the three obvious entrances – one of them was the one he entered earlier, and the others seemed too easy. Pitch knew he was alive, and he was likely to try and lure him into another trap like the one he fell into earlier. It would only make sense to hide a cell in a small space, which lead to a larger opening.

Jack moved closer to one of the holes, poking his head through. Looking for any clues that could indicate that someone was in there. However, the space looked like it was just a narrow tunnel, leading to the surface.

“Guess I’ll go through the other one.” Jack muttered, stepping over the snake. His feet left a pink footprint after each step, still covered in paint. The spirit shoved his sword forward and crept into the hole, feeling like a snake himself. As he predicted, the tunnel lead into a large opening, and Jack slipped out of the tight space, relieved to stretch his legs. Scooping up his sword, he crept closer to the opening, sticking close to the walls. With the cape silencing his footsteps and the armour absorbing him into the shadows, he was practically invisible, only a pair of blue eyes could be seen shining in the darkness.

—

The yelling had stopped, and so had the hissing. Sandy found himself alone again in the cell, wondering about the fate of the fighter that had tried to slay the nightmare. Though he wished that the mysterious person had won, his mind was against him, pointing out that there could be no way anyone could survive the nightmare’s wrath. The monster, from what he could see, was nothing like he had ever seen before, towering over what he himself could produce. It was strong, powerful, and fuelled by fear. Or, to be more specific, his fear. It would be impossible, even with all guardians fighting together, to beat just one of those things.

It was just impossible.

But, if it was Jack, then maybe…

No, it couldn’t be. Sandy had always held onto the hope that Jack was alive, but lately that hope had been fading. Like defeating the nightmare, it was just impossible for the spirit to still be alive, or still in a coma. No one, not even immortals as far as he was aware, could survive for seventy years, trapped in the ice. And at this point, Pitch could’ve easily found him and killed him, like he intended to before. It wouldn’t be hard, seeing as Jack was unconscious, to pull him out of the ice and-

Sandy closed his eyes tightly, pushing away the thought. As the minutes grew, the guardian of dreams opened his eyes again, letting out a silent sigh. Just as he was about to close them again, planning to rest, something caught his eye, in the corner of the cell.

Two other eyes were staring back at him, shining blue slightly. The rest of the figure seemed to be in the shadow, still and silent.

Sandy moved back as much as he could, fearing whatever this new nightmare was. Well, it could only be a nightmare, couldn’t it? What else could blend into shadows like that? However, he wasn’t expecting the nightmare to speak.

“Sandy?” The whisper sounded unsure, but excited. Sandy studied the figure closer, unsure himself. Only the other guardians called him Sandy, no one else. Could it be – no. He couldn’t raise his hopes again. It was just like Pitch Black to torture him in this way: making him think that there was someone here – a cruel trick to send him over the edge.

“Sandy?” The voice said again, louder. The figure shifted, now standing at a full height. Sandy narrowed his eyes, and caught sight of some pink feet.

Pink feet?

Sandy wanted to ask who was there, and how it managed to paint its feet pink. Wanted to ask if it was really who he thought it was. Wanted to hope.

“Sandy – it’s me!” The figure stepped out of the shadows, and the sandman thought he was dreaming. The stranger had most of his face covered by a hood, and his body was covered by black armour. But, he was grinning in a way that only one person he had ever met could.

Only a grin that wide could belong to Jack Frost.


	25. Chapter 25

Sandy felt like he was in a dream. A dream that he had created for himself, for his own benefit.

He always prided his dreams in being lifelike; so lifelike to the point where the child didn’t know whether they were dreaming, or whether they were living their dreams. He always made sure, along with the strong dose of fantasy, the dreams had a realistic factor added in, so the children were comfortable in their imaginary world. Add a family member or a pet, for example – something that is actually real – and the child will begin to believe the dream and be happily engaged. Add a family member or a pet, and the child is no longer alone.

So Sandy didn’t know what to think. Was it a dream, or reality? His magic hadn’t been used in decades, and for he knew, it could be out of control.

Jack Frost stood a few metres away from him, tilting his head slightly in confusion. The angle his face was at allowed Sandy to see some scratches and dirt across his cheeks; nothing major, but something that allowed Sandy to finally reach a conclusion.

This was not a dream.

Never, in any of his dreams, did he let any character or animal get hurt. It was why he only included some realism in his fantasies; if something got injured, the child would doubt themselves – the last thing the sandman wanted.

Jack Frost was standing in front of him, not perfect, but bruised and battered – this was never how he would picture the spirit, even in the subconscious of his mind. His dreams were meant to be perfect, and Jack certainly was not. Covered in dye, dirt and scratches, he was the opposite of perfect. But still smiling.

Sandy felt the first smile in over seventy years spread across his face, and his whole body lightened up, resuming its usual glow. Jack was _here,_ alive, not lying drowned under some ice.

Jack grinned, if possible, even wider, and ran up to the sandman. Once again, the guardian of dreams felt the familiar, cool breeze that followed the spirit dance around them, and it felt like it was greeting an old friend.

“You’re okay…” The spirit breathed in relief, undoing the chains that had bound the sandman for so long. He was doing it with a sword that seemed to be made of ice, and Sandy didn’t know why he didn’t notice it before. It was obviously handcrafted, and he admired the skill and detail that went into the design.

“I thought, when I saw that snake, that…” The spirit said, before cutting off. The chains fell from Sandy’s wrists with a satisfying clunk, and the older guardian could finally touch the ground again, and not feel the continuous ache of his arms.

But first, before he stretched, before he summoned a dream cloud, he needed to do something he had been wishing to do for over seventy years.

He hugged Jack Frost.

He felt the spirit freeze for a millisecond, but he soon found himself getting gently hugged by two, cold arms. Jack had crouched down to his height, and Sandy felt himself smiling in relief. The younger guardian’s cool temperature was a confirmation that, no, this definitely wasn’t a dream. It was something better.

For a few minutes the two guardians stayed in the tight embrace, unwilling to let go. Like himself, Sandy felt like Jack needed confirmation that this was real.

Jack let go first, as expected. The spirit wasn’t used to physical contact as much as the others, and would only hug in extreme circumstances. Sandy looked at the spirit that was kneeling in front of him, his face still covered by the hood, looking at him with piercing blue eyes. The sandman reached out and pulled the hood from him head, revealing locks of white hair stained with paint powder. Sandy laughed fondly, glad to see that Jack was still there, behind the armour.

Jack began to laugh with Sandy, brushing some hair out of his face. It had grown much longer since the last time he saw him, Sandy noted.

“Yeah…thank Bunny’s egg-bomb for that…” The spirit said, looking at one lock of hair in dismay. “I don’t know whether it will ever wash out…”

 **“ _It suits you very well.”_** The sandman joked, before fully realising what Jack had said. His eyes widened, shocked. **_“Wait – you managed to get Bunny out as well?!”_** Jack nodded slowly.

“Yeah…and Tooth, too…why are you looking at me like that?” Sandy shook his head in disbelief.

 ** _“How could you have done that by yourself? How long have you been awake? Are you hurt? How did you defeat that nightmare?”_** Sandy looked at the spirit’s hands, realising what was missing. **_“And where is your staff?!”_** He signed frantically, his symbols flashing above him at a fast pace.

“Slow down!” Jack grinned, sitting more comfortably on the floor. “But I’m going have to explain quickly, because last time I did this I almost killed me and Tooth.”

Sandy reminded himself to ask about this tale later.

“Yeah…I did it by myself – oh, and my pet horse, Raven. He’s waiting outside.” Jack grinned, propping himself up from the slouch he was currently sat in. “And for question number two, I think this makes it…” he calculated it on his fingers. “Three or four days? I think? Could be five. Ah well. Under a week, anyway.”

**_“Under a week?!”_ **

“Yeah…it’s been wild.”

 ** _“Have you rested? Have you been hurt?”_** Sandy signed quickly, not failing to notice the shadows under the spirit’s eyes.

“Yeah, I did sleep for a bit.” Jack said hurriedly, waving his hand in a dismissive way. “And yeah, I got hurt at one point, if you must know, but Tooth patched me up and forced me to rest.” Jack fake-shivered. “That is a scary fairy…” Sandy laughed silently, kicking his legs. 

“Anyway, you wanted to know how I defeated that nightmare?” Jack asked, pulling something out of the pocket of his hood. Sandy nodded, and for the first time, he noticed the feather hanging from the spirit’s ear. He pointed at it, smiling. Jack looked up and touched the feather absentmindedly.

“Tooth dropped it, so I kept it.” He gave it a flick. “Do you like it?”

Sandy gave a huge smile and thumbs up. Jack grinned before carrying on.

“Oh, and your last question.” The spirit spring upwards, holding his sword again. “This _is_ my staff. Sort of.” Jack swung his sword carelessly whilst Sandy made a question mark above his head. “Look – let me show you.” The spirit held his sword in both hands tightly, whilst the sandman wondered what would happen. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was a flash of blue light that blinded him, getting stronger and brighter –

And then it stopped as quickly as it came, and Sandy removed the sand-sunglasses he had fashioned to protect his eyes. Jack was standing in front of him, grinning, holding his staff in his hands.

 ** _“How did you do that?!”_** Sandy asked in a flurry of signs. The spirit smiled sheepishly.

“I’m not too sure…it kinda happened one day, and I’ve been able to do it ever since.” He explained, helping the sandman to his feet. “Anyway…we have to go now, before some nightmares get pissed.” Sandy nodded and created a dream cloud beneath him. Jack smiled and pointed to a dark tunnel.

“This way, your Highness.” He mock-bowed, exaggerating his hand movements. Sandy rolled his eyes and, grinning, placed a sand-crown on his head. This caused Jack to splutter with laughter and his bow to falter.

“Good to have you back, Sandy.” He said in between the laughter. “Good to have you back.”

And Sandy was glad that Jack was back too.


	26. Chapter 26

Sandy stroked the black horse in front of him, smiling. Behind him, Jack was spinning around in the sand, bored.

“I think it was this way, wasn’t it Raven?” The spirit called, stopping and pointing in a direction. The stallion gave a small nod before closing its eyes lazily, enjoying the sandman’s strokes.

Luckily, there had been no difficulty getting out of the tunnels, despite Jack’s suspicions, and now, as Sandy was introducing himself to Raven, they were deciding what route to take back to the Warren.

“Thanks for the help.” Jack called at the horse, resuming his spinning, “Do you remember anything, Sandy?” From the blurred image behind his bangs, the spirit saw Sandy point roughly in the direction he had done. So he was right.

“Come on, Raven!” Jack yelled, stopping his spinning again. Man, it was making him dizzy. The stallion snorted, obviously annoyed that its strokes were getting interrupted. The spirit rolled his eyes, kicking the sand beneath his foot. It was hot and gravelly, and was burning his feet slightly. He didn’t know whether he could melt, but now was not a good time to find out.

“I don’t like the fact there are no more nightmares…” Jack plunged his sword into the sand. “I feel like something is waiting for us…”

—

“What?!” Pitch hissed at the lone nightmare that was cowering in the corner. He had sent a whole fleet of them to guard the sandman, but this was the only surviving one.

He snarled and yelled in frustration, listening to his voice echo down the cave. Jack Frost was stronger than he thought…much stronger. Now there was only one guardian left in his grasp, and for once he was unsure what move to make next. It was like in a game of chess: each of his moves were stopped by an unseen intruder, stopping him from winning.

For over seventy years Pitch had managed to keep a tight hold of his power quite easily, but now, in less than a week, it was slipping out of the gaps of his fingers. Believers were rising, banishing fear.

But what should he do to stop it?

Obviously, Jack Frost was too powerful for his nightmares, even one of his monsters. The spirit had managed to survive the trap that he had left for him, though only just. Maybe he could use more of those? But Jack Frost would be _expecting_ them now, and could easily break in.

Pitch rubbed his temple, sitting down on the lone chair in the room. One thing was definitely going to happen – Jack Frost would come and try to take the last guardian away from him and _win_. He could always wait here for the spirit to come, he figured, but would he be scared of the Boogeyman anymore? And how long would it take for him to arrive this time?

No – he needed Jack Frost to arrive as soon as possible, and fight him himself, kill him himself. But how? How could he get an advantage?

“It’s obvious!” Pitch yelled happily, standing up again. Was he the Boogeyman or not? He could send the spirit a nightmare – a really bad one – about North in trouble…no, North dead. It was so simple, but so significant!

Jack Frost would then come sprinting in, worried for the guardian, thinking that he was dead, not bothering to be on guard…

Then he would strike with the same sword as last time, killing the spirit once and for all.

“Oh Jack…you’re just too predictable…” Pitch laughed, creating a ball of nightmare sand With was glowing dangerously red. A truly great nightmare.

“You!” Pitch snapped at the nightmare that had been forgotten in the corner. The horse galloped towards him, sending his master’s excitement.

“Make sure that this goes into Jack Frost before he sleeps. I don’t care how, just do it!” He ordered, making the nightmare ball into a smooth arrow. The horse clamped it in its mouth and eagerly took off into the sky, escaping through a hole in the roof. Pitch brushed away the sand trail it had left behind and sat back down on the chair, chuckling. The chuckles soon turned to wild laughter that left the Nightmare King breathless.

Jack Frost will be having bad dreams tonight.

—

“Ready?” Jack asked, spinning on one foot to face the sandman. Sandy gave an enthusiastic thumbs up, patting Raven’s neck. Finally, they had found the correct direction to go in, thanks to the Wind, and both guardians were eager to leave; Jack felt like he was going to melt in the dry heat.

“Ready, Rav-“ Jack was cut off quickly as something collided into his rib cage, sending him sprawling back a few feet. Stunned, the spirit lay on the sand for a few seconds as a sharp pain erupted on his chest; there had been a unhealthy crack as the creature struck him – a few ribs were broken, by the looks of things.

“What the…” Jack looked up and saw a nightmare standing in front of him with something clamped in its teeth.

“Great…” Jack tried to get up but a hoof made contact with his legs, sending him to the ground once more. With the heat distracting him, he wasn’t as fast as he could be.

Another hoof hit him in the chest again, winding him; the spirit suddenly felt his sword get pushed into his hand.

 _Nightmares don’t do that, do they?_ Jack opened his eyes and saw that his weapon was attached to a small dream-rope, and a few metres away he saw Sandy holding the other end. Unlike Bunny, the sandman had realised quickly that the nightmare was too strong, and he was too weak. Sure, believers were rising, but without the aid of dreams they were still plagued by nightmares at night. The older guardian knew he couldn’t help Jack in battle by fighting – he would be useless – but was still trying to help the best way he could.

Luckily, the Nightmare didn’t seem to be interested in Sandy anyway; it’s red eyes were set for Jack Frost alone. The spirit felt a grin tug at his lips, and he got up slowly, wincing at each stabbing pain.

“Come on, then.” He said, grinding his teeth. He clutched the sword harder in his hand. “What do you want?” The nightmare shrieked and ran forward as Jack charged, holding his sword to his side. They clashed violently, Jack stabbing the sword into the horse’s side, and the nightmare bringing the spirit to the ground again. The spirit dug the sword deeper into the stallion, twisting it slowly. The nightmare shrieked, collapsing on top of the spirit.

Before its scarlet eyes dulled, however, the nightmare stabbed the arrow into the spirit’s neck. Jack froze.

Immediately, a pain stronger than any other burst through his body, making him scream and clutch the small wound. The arrow was no longer stuck in his neck, and he could swear that he could feel something moving beneath his skin, something small and grainy. Sounds around him dulled until they were a low hum: instead one voice made itself known, a voice that the spirit knew and remembered well.

“ _Let’s have some fun, shall we?”_

Broken images flashed through his mind, images he couldn’t make out – they seemed blurred and distorted, completely unrecognisable.

And then it was over. The pain began to fade along with the images, and Jack found himself staring at a pair of concerned golden eyes. No, not concerned. Afraid.

“Wha…” Jack muttered, unable to get any words out. His voice was raw, like he had been screaming for hours. He coughed, hissing at the pain in his chest, and blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to make sense of what was in front of him. Sandy came more into focus, and the spirit noticed that he was frantically making symbols above his head. Jack closed his eyes again, feeling nauseous, feeling the small wound in his neck.

“What happened?” He managed to croak, moving himself into a sitting position. He could feel Sandy’s hands trying to push him down but he ignored them, coughing slightly.

—

Sandy didn’t know what to say to the spirit that was sat in front of him, eyes closed in what seemed like defeat. The truth was, he didn’t know either.

There had been a battle, he knew that much, between Jack and a nightmare, and the spirit won. But instead of getting up and celebrating, like Sandy thought he would, he seemed to stay frozen in the ground.

Then Jack screamed, and that’s when the guardian ran over to where the spirit lay, studying him for any injuries; but nothing could be seen, apart from a small mark on his neck, the size of a needle prick.

But Jack kept screaming, staring out into nothing with glazed eyes, thrashing in the sand. And Sandy was _scared_. Something was wrong, very wrong, with Jack. The guardian tried to hold his arms down, trying to help the spirit snap out of whatever trance he was in, but nothing helped; Jack’s screaming had stopped, replaced by rapid breaths. Sandy didn’t know what to do, for one of the rare times in his life. He could only watch as Jack moaned and screamed in the sand, under the glare of the sun.

And then, as quickly as it began, it stopped.

Jack stopped moving entirely, and his eyes slowly slid back into focus. Sandy tried shaking him again, and this time it seemed to help the spirit get pulled back into reality.

So he didn’t know what to say, or do, when Jack asked what had happened, because he didn’t know himself. But one thing that he did know that it was something bad, and it probably wasn’t the end.

—

Jack opened his eyes slowly, shielding them from the setting sun in the sky. A few symbols appeared over Sandy’s head, and he tried his hardest to pay attention to them.

“You don’t know?” The spirit guessed, and the older guardian nodded sadly. “That’s okay…I think we better go, anyway.” Sandy shook his head determinedly, pushing Jack back down onto the ground gently.

 ** _“You need to rest…I don’t like whatever happened to you…”_** he signed quickly, looking at him with eyes full of worry.

Rest actually sounded very good to Jack. His limbs seemed much heavier than usual, his brain was fogged, and he still felt nauseous. His eyes kept closing from time to time, and a small headache was coming into play. Not to mention that his ribs were now aching painfully, making it hard for him to breathe.

“I’m really fine.” Jack forced himself to say, standing up slowly, swaying. Already he could feel a coldness cover his chest, a sign that his broken bones were already beginning to heal.

“Let’s just go.” Jack said tiredly, climbing up onto Raven. He was originally planning to fly beside the horse as he was missing riding the wind, but now all he wanted to do was to sleep. He felt like he could barely lift his head, let alone fly.

If Sandy noticed the change in behaviour he didn’t remark on it, and created a dream cloud beneath him. As the two guardians took off, a voice seemed to follow Jack in the wind, echoing in his mind.

_“Let’s have some fun, shall we?”_


	27. Chapter 27

Jack clung onto Raven’s mane, briefly noticing that the scene around him had changed from cream sands to lush fields. The cool wind whistling past his ears welcomed him enthusiastically, a small comfort to the spirit. It was a nice change to the humid air that seemed to cling onto him earlier, making it harder for him to breathe; now he could feel the cold winds awaken his lungs and brush the sweat away from his brow.

He could feel Sandy’s concerned eyes staring at his back but chose to ignore them, feeling like it would be much better if he could just lie down and sleep. It wasn’t often where the spirit would wish he was asleep – usually he was the opposite: energetic and restless, feeling like sleep was a waste of time – but now…he felt a little off his game, to be honest. In fact, he had been feeling unnaturally tired since he got that arrow stabbed into his neck.

The nausea that had taken hold of him earlier had almost left entirely, however, only leaving a slightly uncomfortable feeling in his body. The pain that had also taken over him was definitely gone, and Jack was thankful for that. None of that could be said about his weariness, unfortunately; the spirit was pretty sure that it was increasing by the minute, pressuring him to get some rest. His limbs felt like lead and his head was aching more purposefully each second. His eyelids kept fluttering shut and staying closed for a few seconds at a time until the spirit realised.

Jack snapped his eyes open again, realising what had happened. Again, Sandy’s stare seemed to burn through him, and this time he decided to acknowledge it – they were nearing the Warren, and the last thing he needed was Bunny nagging at him. Plastering on a smile better than he felt, he turned to face the sandman.

“I’m fine, really.” Jack smiled softly, hoping that he looked reassuring. Sandy looked into his eyes, searching for any doubts. The spirit forced himself to keep his gaze fixed on the golden eyes.

Raven was slowing down now, and the scenery around the two guardians was changing from short, mowed grass to large, wild fields full of colourful flowers and eggs.

“ _Honestly_ ” Jack repeated, feeling Sandy’s doubt, “I’m fine…I think that thing was meant to stun me or something…”

“Jack!” A voice rang out, just as Raven came to a halt, tossing his mane. The spirit turned around quickly, wanting to look away from the sandman, and broke into a weary grin as he saw Tooth flying towards them, balancing a bucket in her arms. On closer inspection Jack saw that it was full of colourful dye.

“I was meant to be taking this to Bunny but – oh, it can wait!” Tooth rambled, dropping the bucket carelessly. She spotted Sandy behind Jack for the first time. “Sandy! You’re here!” The fairy laughed and hugged the sandman tightly, pulling Jack into the hug after. This time it was Jack who broke the embrace, not wanting to fall asleep on top of them. Tooth didn’t seem too fussed, but the spirit felt Sandy’s suspicious look at him from the corner of his eye.

“Come on! I bet Bunny is going to be pleased!” Tooth said excitedly, flying out in front of them. Jack forced himself to laugh, throwing in a careless grin for good measure.

“Pleased I’m here? That’s new.” He said jokingly, laughing.

“I’ve decided to help Bunny in the Warren until I have to attend to my own job.” Tooth explained, gesturing back to the bucket that had been left behind. “I’ve never seen him so busy! I think it’s going to be the best Easter to date.” The fairy looked back at the spirit as they entered a small forest full of dye rivers. Her eyes widened as she noticed the paint staining every inch of the spirit. “Wait – how did that happen?!”

“Bunny’s egg bomb.” Jack said in explanation. He let out a yawn before carrying on, stretching his arms. “I had to blow up a snake with it.” Tooth laughed, and the spirit could feel Sandy’s shaking laughter behind him. Glad he had finally distracted the sandman, he rubbed his eyes quickly, trying to clear the fog that was taking over his brain.

“I think you need a bath.” Tooth said, raising an eyebrow at the spirit’s pink feet. Jack inwardly groaned, just wanting to get some rest. Plus, he never really bothered taking a bath before. Sure, he rolled in the snow a few times, and once had a bath at the Pole when Bunny tipped paint a over him, but he still had experience to gain before becoming confident. He didn’t really like water much either.

“I don’t need a bath!” Jack did his best to look lively when in reality he wanted to smack his face into Raven’s neck and go to sleep without question. “This will come off! Eventually!”

“Never had a bath before, Frosty?”

Bunny appeared through the trees, carrying a pink egg. He dropped it, however, seeing the state the spirit was in. “I guess you used by egg bomb.” The rabbit doubled up laughing at the sight of the pink feet. Jack groaned.

Bunny noticed the sandman behind the spirit and smiled, straightening up.

“Nice to see ya well, Sandy.” He said, expression softening at the sight of his friend. Sandy smiled back, giving a half-wave, before sliding off Raven’s back and into a dream cloud. Jack let his eyes close for a few seconds, feeling the headache he had move from painful to just plain fogginess.

“He’s hurt?!” Tooth’s cry snapped his eyes open again, remembering that he was around other guardians.

“Who’s hurt?!” He asked, rubbing his eyes again.

“You are, ya Dill.” Bunny said, a hint of concern in his voice. Great, now someone else was watching him.

“I’m fine.” Jack sighed, slipping off Raven’s back and next to Sandy. He wasn’t expecting to stumble, however, feeling a number pain come from his ribs.

“Steady, Frostbite.” Bunny said, steadying him with his paw.

“Just tired.” Jack mumbled, rubbing his eyes again. Putting on a brighter act, he straightened up, brushing his hair out of his face. “They’re healing, don’t worry. Tooth knows how it works.” Bunny and Sandy turned to face the fairy curiously. She shrugged.

“He does heal quicker now.” She said, “but we’ll decide whether they need bandages after you clean yourself up.”

“Hang on, Frosty can heal hims –“

“Sure can, Kangaroo.” Jack turned back to face Tooth, holding back the yawn that was threatening to spill from his mouth. “I don’t like baths.”

“You have no choice.” Tooth said mercilessly. “There’s a bathroom in the Warren – you know where it is – and I know you know how to take a bath.” Tooth sighed, smiling at the spirit. “You deserve some rest. Please.”

“I don’t see how sitting in water is relaxing…” he muttered moodily, “but fine – I’ll go take a bath…”

—

Jack lay in the cool water, letting his head lie back on the while bath edge. He stretched his feet out further, his toes brushing the end of the tub.

It wasn’t as bad as he remembered really, sitting in a tub full of water. It especially helped the fact that the water was cold, falling deep into the negative numbers. It made it seem less like water and more like ice, which is what Jack could deal with.

The water had pale colours spreading through it and, as the spirit watched them slowly make there way over to his neck, he had to admit that having a bath was a good idea. He hadn’t realised how dirty he was.

Jack let out a small groan, glad that his headache was easing, and slipped further into the tub, letting the water wash over his shoulders. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander, feeling his body relax for the first time in a week. The tiredness was pulling him deeper into unconsciousness and before he knew it, his hand fell limp as he drifted off into a world of dreams.

_A loud, echoing cackle surrounded him in the small cave, making a shiver run down his back. It was somehow familiar, but he couldn’t place where it had came from._

_He was following a trail of liquid – what kind he didn’t know – and it suddenly occurred to him he couldn’t remember where he was, or how he got here._

_What was going on?_

_Desperate gasps blocked the laughter and Jack moved closer to the sound, slipping on the liquid. He could see a figure in the corner and reached out, extending his fingers –_

“Jack? Are you okay in there?” Tooth’s worried voice woke him up quickly, sloshing some water out of the bath. Jack sighed, wondering what he had been dreaming about.

“You’ve been in there for a while.” Tooth continued as Jack yawned, sitting himself up in the tub. The tiredness had now completely taken over him, and he could already feel his eyes closing again.

“I’m good, Tooth – this dye just took forever to wash out.” The spirit answered, watching the dye stir at the bottom of the water. He sighed, leaning his head back on the bathtub again.


	28. Chapter 28

_He couldn’t see much, apart from a small line of light that illuminated the strange liquid in front of him. Jack crouched down and brushed it with his fingers: it was thick and warm._

_“Anyone here?” The spirit called out into the semidarkness, squinting in the poor light. His voice echoed into a twisted network of caverns, but no answer was returned back._

_Jack stepped forward, unintentionally placing one bare foot into the liquid; he brought it away quickly, rubbing it with the sleeve of his blue hoodie. The substance was growing colder now, making the spirit wonder what exactly it was: the scent was familiar, but the answer was blocked in his mind._

_What was he doing here?_

_Last time he was awake, he was in the Warren with Bunny, Tooth and Sandy. What had happened since then?_

_The questions were quickly pushed from his mind as he studied the floor again. The liquid, from what he could tell from the weak shine of the light, was actually a trail, leading deep into one of the tunnels. Jack followed it slowly, wincing at the substance coat his feet._

_Jack soon found himself crawling through a narrow tunnel, the strange liquid now running across his hands and was soaking his trousers. The tunnel ended, and the spirit was in a small cave._

_“Anyone?” Jack called, slowly stepping into the cave. This time there was an answer, but not the one he was expecting._

_A loud, echoing cackle surrounded him, making him shiver unpleasantly. The laugh was somehow familiar, but he couldn’t place where it came from. Hesitating for a few seconds, Jack cautiously edged closer, following the unknown liquid like a lifeline, looking for answers. He wanted to know where he was, or how he got there, but he couldn’t think of anything before the cave._

_What was going on?_

_A desperate gasp, followed by strangled breathing, blocked out the laughter and Jack moved closer to the sound, slipping on the liquid._

_A hunched figure was in the corner of the room, shaking in exhaustion. Squinting, the spirit stretched out his hand, extending his fingers out. His nails scraped against the fabric and the figure turned weakly, revealing a long, white beard and, once a caring, joyful face creased in pain and fear. Jack’s breath hitched in his throat as the face turned to him, briefly lighting up in recognition._

_“North?” Jack chocked, dropping to his knees._

_North’s words were blocked by the blood streaming out of his parted lips, but to the spirit they were all too clear._

_“You…came…” the guardian uttered, voice cracking with emotion. Jack vision blurred, and he realised he was crying, tears streaming down his cheeks and freezing at his chin._

_“Please…please don’t…” The spirit whispered, grabbing North’s coat. He couldn’t even choke out what he was meant to say. “You have to get up!” Jack realised that his staff wasn’t in his hand; he searched the ground frantically, but it wasn’t in sight._

_North’s hand reached out for his and the spirit turned back to the guardian, his eyes threatening to spill more tears._

_“I’m proud of you.” North spluttered, eyes shining with what Jack thought was pride. “You managed to get here all on your own…” Jack let a sob rip from his chest, clutching the older guardian’s hand tightly._

_“Please…we can make it out of here! You just have to get up…” Jack looked around desperately, searching for something, anything that could help. But they were alone._

_“You can come with me…we could leave this place and get you help…” another fresh wave of tears tire through him and he had to stop speaking, choking on his own grief. To his surprise, he heard North laugh quietly._

_“It iz over for me, I think.” The Cossack was smiling at the spirit. “But you can still leave…get…out of…here…whilst you…” The guardian was now gasping, and Jack felt the hand in his lax._

_“No – please!” Jack begged, but North’s eyes were glazed over, a smile forever on his face. “North!” Jack screamed, sobbing. The laughing had now returned and surrounded the spirit, mocking him._

**_“Oh Jack…”_ ** _a voice whispered from beside his ear. It was full of amusement, but Jack kept his head bent, feeling like the world was tearing into two._

**_“Oh Jack…you should’ve got here sooner…”_ **

_The cave seemed to shatter before the spirit’s eyes, falling apart like a jigsaw puzzle. Jack’s eyes widened as North’s body turned into a pile of black sand, before disappearing entirely._

_“No!” Jack reached out, trying to grab the remains, but he was too late. He was now in what he could only place as Nowhere – everything was entirely white apart from him himself._

_Jack began to hyperventilate, clutching his chest tightly as he bent towards the blank floor, digging his fingers tightly into the blue fabric of his hoodie._

_“North…North…” he mumbled repeatedly, hugging himself. The lack of air was finally getting to him: his vision was clouding over, blackening at the edges. His mind was growing weaker._

**_“You should’ve got here sooner…”_ ** _the voice was back, louder. **“If you had gotten here sooner, maybe he would have lived…”**_

_—_

Jack sat up quickly, clutching his chest. Gasping, he looked around in confusion; the white wasn’t surrounding him anymore – instead, there were trees and grass and flowers and streams and –

Jack’s gaze fell onto the three sleeping guardians next to him. Beside them, his horse lay, breathing rhythmically. He was also asleep, twitching his foot slightly.

So it was a dream. He was in the Warren with his friends, safe.

_But not everyone is here._

But what if that dream wasn’t a dream? What if it was a warning? Jack stood up, unable to go back to sleep though his body ached, and paced a few metres away from where the others were sleeping.

“North…” Jack muttered, biting his lip. The spirit felt like he _needed_ the Cossack right now; usually, the guardian would make him a hot chocolate at this point, and sit down with him. Then they would talk – usually it was about random, silly thing: now the spirit needed that more than ever.

But _why_ would Pitch (because who else could it be) send a warning to him in his dreams? It didn’t make sense – but then, when did Pitch’s plans ever make sense? Jack growled in frustration, running a hand through his hair. He stopped pacing, and instead looked at the moon that seemed to be shining on him, illuminating the armour he was wearing.

“What do I do now?” Jack asked the orb, wringing his hands. “What should I do? I don’t know whether that was a dream or not…I don’t know if it is a trap, but I don’t want North to die…I don’t know what I should do!” The last plea ended with a yell, and the spirit quickly looked over at the sleeping group, afraid he had disturbed them. Bunny twitched his ear, however no one else moved. Sighing, Jack looked back at the moon, eyes round and desperate.

“Please. Tell me something!” He whispered, gripping his sword tighter. The moon didn’t answer, however, and kept staring at him.

“Thanks for the help.” The spirit muttered, jumping off the rock in one swift leap. In that moment, as he briefly soared through the air, he had made his decision.

He was going to find North now.

It didn’t matter whether it was a trap – the dream felt too real, and it reminded the spirit the lives at stake. And if his life was going to be lost but North was safe, he would gladly accept his fate.

Jack felt in his pocket. There were still two snow globes left – one to get there and one to get back. The spirit looked over at Raven, feeling a pang of guilt; the stallion looked so peaceful in his sleep, and it would be hard to wake him.

“I won’t take him.” Jack muttered, pulling out a snow-globe. “I can’t risk any other lives.”

The snow globe shattered on the ground, creating a portal leading to the unknown. Just as he leapt inside, Jack swore he heard the moon sigh sadly.

But whenever had he made the moon happy?


	29. Chapter 29

Unusually, the snow globe had transported Jack to where is dream started – at the mouth of a cave. Looking around, Jack wasn’t able recognise the steep mountains and hills that were scattered around him; he seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, and the cave itself, if you were passing by, looked like a dent in the earth, not an entrance.

Jack gripped his sword tightly and forced his feet to walk forwards, into the darkness. As he predicted, as soon as he entered the cave, he couldn’t see a thing, and had to rely on his frost again to make his way through. The darkness made his chest tighten, and the spirit stepped back again, expecting to move out of the cave again to try and calm himself.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was a solid wall.

“What?!” Jack gasped, pressing his hands on what once was the cave entrance. “When did that happen?!” He only moved one step, and even that was small. The spirit felt the wall more carefully, and noticed that it was made out of tiny grains of some sort. Probably nightmare sand.

A snort behind him jolted Jack from his thoughts, and he turned around. Though he could see nothing, he could sense a creature was standing a few metres away from him.

“I need some _light!_ ” The spirit yelled in frustration. The creature waiting for him began to move forwards (or was it backwards?) loudly, its feet dragging on the floor.

And, all of a sudden, Jack could see. His sword was now glowing brightly in his hand, lighting up the whole chamber. And, with the new light, Jack noticed three unpleasant things.

One, there was actually more than one nightmare – maybe ten? Twenty?

Two, these nightmares were huge.

And three – these nightmares were different from the others; they weren’t horses, but deer. To be more specific, reindeer. But not really – reindeer were nice and friendly. These reindeer had large, spiked horns and six long, bony legs which ended with talons instead of hooves.

“Oh shit.” Jack muttered, pressing his back against the wall. The deer charged forwards, shrieking, and the spirit quickly jumped upwards, launching himself off the wall. The nightmares sharply turned and lunges forwards again; again, Jack tried to dodge but one of the monsters bit down on his injured leg. Jack yelled out in a mixture of pain and surprised, kicking the nightmare brutally to send it skidding behind its comrades. Panting, Jack sliced the reindeer that got too close – however, twice as many would return, stalking slowly towards him.

Turning his nails into the ice-claws, the spirit used the wall as a ramp and launched himself across the cave again, landing neatly on his feet.

He thought he landed neatly, anyway; unfortunately, his leg made him stumble towards a dip that was hidden in the shadows. There were a few seconds where he wobbled dangerously at the edge.

And then he fell silently, too shocked to scream. The darkness swallowed him once more. Jack reached the ground, landing with a sharp crack. And then darkness again.

—

Jack was first aware of a sharp pain in his head, making him gasp. A cold took over him soon after, however, reassuring the spirit that the pain would soon leave.

“Ouch…” The spirit whispered, sitting up slowly. He looked up, wincing, and saw a small pinprick of light from where he fell. The shrieks of nightmares echoed above him, and the spirit smiled slightly, knowing (though unintentionally) that he had escaped from them. He wasn’t very enthusiastic in fighting them, to be honest.

“What now?” Jack muttered, standing up unsteadily, clutching his head. It was completely dark in the hidden chamber he was in now, apart from his sword that was glowing next to him. Scooping up the weapon, Jack began to wander around the room, feeling the blood flow running down his neck slow down gratefully.

“Those nightmares were definitely guarding something.” Jack muttered, trying to arrange his thoughts. “Or maybe they were a distraction? I dunno.” He turned left. “But I think falling down that hole was an accident, though, so maybe Pitch doesn’t know I’m here.” He turned right. “But I need to find North…I just don’t know where he is. Maybe further undergr-“ Jack was suddenly dragged off his feet and slung into a wall. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at him, flashing red. More nightmares – great.

Before he could react, the largest nightmare charged forward, pinning him against the wall with its antlers. The other creatures moved forward in a wave, just like that night were Sandy “died”, all those years ago. The memory had stuck in his mind ever since. The sandman’s eyes widening. Himself, charging forward, realising that he _wasn’t going to make it –_

This was the same, but this time it was North, not Sandy.

North could be dying right now and he was here, letting the nightmares beat him.

“No!” Jack yelled, feeling power race beneath his skin. Automatically, his sword switched back into his staff, which was lightening up the whole tunnel. Crystal eyes filled with a blue glow, and ice tore itself from his skin and towards the nightmares.

To Jack, it felt like he had tonnes of arms. He could control each ice beam, bend them at his will, aim straight for the reindeer-copy’s eyes. And once it was all over, once the nightmares were less than dust, Jack drew the arms back in, hiding them once more.

Jack leans against the wall, closing his eyes. He let a smile creep up on his face in relief.

_“Jack!”_

Jack turned his head, feeling his heart drop. He knew that voice.

“ _Jack!”_

“North!” Jack yelled, running into the middle of the cave. “Where are you! Please!”

 _“Jack…”_ North’s voice faded alarmingly, and the spirit’s breath hitched. Quickly, he dashed through a small tunnel, frost spreading out behind him.

—

Pitch watched the boy dash away, chuckling. Jack Frost has no idea that the voice was fake. He had no idea that he was meant to fall into that hole. The Boogeyman began to sing softly.

“Jack be nimble, Jack be quick…”


	30. Chapter 30

“North!” Jack yelled, zigzagging down the endless tunnels of darkness, searching desperately for any sign of the guardian of wonder in the cave openings. In truth, the spirit was completely lost; the small light that he had been guiding him for all of this time seemed to be dimming at an alarming rate, only showing a few centimetres of the ground in front of him. The cave suddenly sloped downwards, making Jack stumble and land on his front painfully. Usually, he would never fall down as ungracefully as that, but his injured leg was hurting again, despite the frost numbing the pain underneath. The injury had been hurting ever since the nightmares grabbed it to swing him against the wall, and now it was slowing him down.

Jack sprang up again immediately and, without breaking a stride, continued running down the tunnel, holding his sword out in front of him.

“North!” The spirit yelled again, making ice form underneath his feet, trying to improve his speed. Strangely, however, the ice seeped into the ground like water. Growling, Jack ran faster, breathing in sharply as his leg twinged in pain.

 _“Jack!”_ The spirit stopped quickly, panting, and looked around.

“North! Where are you?!” He cried out, turning on the spot. “I’m coming, I promise!”

“ _Quickly!”_

Jack moved forward, following North’s panicked voice, holding his sword out like a glow-stick.

“You have to tell me where you are!” Jack felt tears prick in his eyes out of frustration. 

_“Jack…”_ North’s voice was faded now. Weaker. Struggling…

“Hold on! Please!” The spirit moved closer to the wall and found a small gap hidden in the stone, just the right size for a skinny winter spirit with a large sword. Jack brushed away the unease in his stomach and squeezed himself in the hole, pushing his sword out in front of him. He didn’t see the yellow pair of eyes watching him, and the gleaming smile underneath them.

—

Pitch just watched as Jack Frost panicked, noting triumphantly the cuts on his face and the leg that he dragged behind him. The idiotic spirit was lost, any fool could see that, and he was only becoming more lost, moving further into his labyrinth of darkness. He was almost at the heart now, and any moment his powers would be ineffective on his beautiful sand.

Sure enough, the frost trail ended suddenly behind the spirit, not that he realised. He was panicking too much, wanting to find the last beloved guardian.

Everything was falling into place. Everything was how he planned it.

And, oh, how entertaining it was to watch! How nice it felt to finally be once step ahead of Jack Frost, to know that the troublesome spirit would never be making it out of these tunnels! How fun it would be to kick his lifeless body as North watched, useless!

The older guardian was currently chained against a cave wall, close to here, actually. Pitch was sure that the Cossack could hear every one of Jack’s cries, not that he could do anything about it. The Boogeyman had gagged him earlier, along with tying his limbs together tightly, so there was no way the fat oaf could get in the way.

Pitch chuckled quietly as the spirit stopped, listening out for the fake voice again. Seriously, was Jack Frost fooled _this easily_? After all of this time he spent fighting him, he could’ve just locked the spirit in a cage and played with his mind again, forcing more nightmare sand into his brain – because that was what was happening now, in reality. His nightmare, though dying in service, had managed to inject the sand into the annoying spirit which now was raging through his mind, mixing up his fears with what was actually happening in the now.

 _Finally!_ The stupid winter spirit had found the hole that Pitch had perfectly made in the cave wall, perfectly his size, perfectly leading straight to his little trap where North was waiting.

Pitch couldn’t help but smile, eyes glinting in amusement. Finally, he was in control. Pitch Black was the puppeteer, and Jack Frost was the mindless toy hanging at the end of the strings.

—

Jack finally slipped out of the hole, blending in with the shadows surrounding him. Picking up his sword, the spirit began to made his way around the edges of the small room he was in, squinting in the darkness. Too many times before had he been ambushed by walking into the centre of the room, and he didn’t really fancy it this time.

Jack scanned the room again, watching for any movement. A shift in the darkness caught his eye and he looked up, spotting for the first time exactly who he was looking for.

North was hanging against the wall, a gag stuffed into his mouth tightly. The guardian of wonder’s limbs were tied forcefully with a rope made out of black sand, and his wrists and ankles were held by thick, heavy cuffs. His coat was stained and his boots were scuffed, but his eyes still held the same light they did all of those years ago.

Jack was about to make his presence known to the older guardian but the Cossack spotted him first as he crept out of the shadows. His eyes widened with a mixture of joy and worry, and he began trying to say something, but the gag blocked his words.

“You’re alive…” Jack breathed, moving closer to North. The spirit wanted to sink to the floor in relief, but first he had to free the guardian.

“I’m going to get you out of those. Just hang on.”

However, the winter spirit was quickly distracted from his task as North tried to say something else urgently in a frantic tone.

“What?” Jack’s heart fluttered in panic. Was North actually hurt? The spirit reached out for the black gag, aiming to untie it, but something hard hit his side and sent him skidding across the floor for what felt like the hundredth time that day, cutting his legs. A loud, echoing cackle echoed in the small cave, sounding just like the one in his nightmare.

“Oh Jack – I honestly thought better of you…”

Jack stood up unsteadily, only to get picked up and hung in the air by his ankle.

“But then again, if I did, this would’ve never had worked.”

The spirit twisted himself, noting two things. One, the thing that was holding him was a giant, nightmare tentacle.

Two, Pitch Black was holding that tentacle, clearly pleased with himself.

“Could you put me down please?” Jack asked as politely as he could. “You see, I’m going to get dizzy up here like this, and then I’m not going to listen to your precious monologue because of it.” Pitch snarled. Jack grinned.

“Still cocky, I see.” The Boogeyman said through gritted teeth, creating another tentacle/rope out of the shadows and making it hover above the winter spirit. Jack swung himself slightly, wishing that Pitch would stop gripping his ankle so hard.

“I get that a lot, strangely.” Jack said, wiggling his ankle. “I have no clue why.” He could hear North urgently trying to say something to him, but he ignored it. He needed to focus on stopping Pitch. If he did that, all of them – all of the guardians – would be together again.

Pitch rolled his eyes and casually slammed the spirit on the floor, creating a loud crack. The spirit yelled as he hit the ground, dropping his sword as he did so. The Boogeyman spotted it and walked over to the weapon curiously, gagging the spirit with sand as he did so.

“What’s this pretty thing?” He asked, picking it up with two fingers. He held it out as if it was trash. “Do we really need this, hmm?”

Jack froze the gag quickly with his tongue (a new experience) and was able to talk again.

“Yes, actually…but I guess you’re not gonna give it to me.” Jack tried to get up again, but was moved back to his previous position, hanging by his ankle.

“No, I don’t think you will need this silly old thing!” Pitch laughed, dropping the sword a few metres away from the spirit and kicking it with his foot. “It looks too dangerous…you could cut yourself, Jackie.”

“I doubt it.”

“I couldn’t take the chance.”

Jack rolled his eyes, rotating in the air. North’s muffled words filled the silence as the spirit thought of a plan. Only one idea came into his mind.

“What’s that? Over there!” Jack nodded his head to a random spot behind Pitch, trying to act convincing. The Boogeyman snorted.

“You really think I would fall for that, Frost?!” He sneered.

“Honestly? No.” Jack suddenly span around, feeling his other foot collide satisfyingly into Pitch’s smug face. He quickly froze the tentacle holding his spare foot, sending him crashing to the ground. As Pitch stumbled to his feet, Jack launched himself across the room, snatching up his sword. Panting, he stood up just as the Boogeyman turned around, fury flashing in his eyes.

“I’m glad that went well.” Jack said, smiling reassuringly at North, who was watching wide-eyed.

“I’m afraid it won’t be that easy, Frost.” Pitch said, pulling out a blade from under his cloak – the very same blade that had almost killed the spirit all those years before. The guardian swore he saw dried blood at the edge of the weapon.

“I know.” Jack’s face split into a well-rehearsed grin. “But I’ve got to beat you, haven’t I?”

Pitch Black and Jack Frost leapt into the air at the same time, determination reflecting in both of their eyes, ready to fight to the death.


	31. Chapter 31

_The day hadn’t been great, in short. Most of the days he’d experienced in three hundred years hadn’t been great, but now that he had the guardians, he thought they would all be good days instead of bad days. Of course, in hindsight, Jack realised that it would be extremely lucky if he experienced good days for the rest of his life with the other guardians; the logical thought didn’t help, though, as he felt the wind rake his hair in comfort._

_There had been a blizzard, not too far from where he was now. He never meant for it to spiral out of control – honestly – but with all of the new believers he was gaining, his power had increased noticeably to the point where it felt like he was a young spirit again, learning how to fly._

_The blizzard fed on Jack’s panic and quickly grew larger and more destructive until it reached a small town. The town never stood a chance with its cheap houses and old buildings, and soon was torn apart in the fierce winds. Jack tried, really tried to calm the storm but he seemed to only make it worse. He gave up, and watched helplessly as people were buried by thick snow. Children were calling for their parents, parents were calling for their children – Jack shuddered just thinking about it._

_He couldn’t be a guardian anymore._

_Guardians didn’t_ kill _children, and that was what he had just done. Not one child, but probably more. All because he didn’t know how to control himself._

_Jack let a fresh wail rip from his throat, hugging himself tighter. Images of broken bodies flashed through his mind, causing another wall of misery release itself from his body. There were no tears – Jack had none left to give – but pure grief and guilt made itself known through raw sobs and cries from deep inside himself._

_Jack screamed into the night air, burying his head in his knees. His nails dug into his legs and he began to shiver, drawing in shaky gasps._

_Had the other guardians found out by now?_

_Of course they did. So many believers disappearing from the globe at once was sure to draw attention. What were they thinking now? Were they disappointed? Or had they known this would happen, and it was just a matter of time?_

_Were they on there way now, ready to remove his guardianship?! Probably._

_As much as he hated to admit it, he had_ enjoyed _being a guardian. Who would he be now?_

_Footsteps were moving towards him. They were coming now. They were going to shout at him, call him a murderer…_

_A arm suddenly wrapped itself around his shoulders, gripping him tightly. Jack didn’t look up, trying to control his breathing. Were they going to take him back to the Pole? Throw him in a sack again? Jack tucked himself in more, drawing in his knees against his chest._

_The arm around his shoulders didn’t tug him away, however – it firmly pressed his body against another. Jack looked up blearily and saw that North was holding him, looking down at him with pitiful eyes._

_Not pitiful. Forgiving._

_Suddenly, a collection of feathers, fur and sand surrounded the spirit, and he could feel their warmth spreading throughout his body. All of them were sitting beside him, supporting him. And Jack had never experienced that before._

_And slowly, he realised that he liked the feeling._

_Unashamed, Jack began to cry, feeling the familiar tears freeze on his cheeks. The other guardians pressed closer to him: North squeezing his shoulders, Tooth holding his hand, Bunny leaning on his side and Sandy in front of him, smiling supportively. Jack just closed his eyes and uncurled himself from the ball he was used to, letting himself relax in their embrace._

_He finally knew what it felt like to have someone always standing beside him, to forgive him, to understand him._

_It was called Love._

_And Jack found that he liked being loved. He liked it a lot._

—

The memory seemed to flash to the surface of Jack’s mind, unexpected. But not forgotten.

Now, as he almost certainly jumping to his death, it seemed to explode from his mind for reasons unknown.

The Nightmare King’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his mouth twisted in a snarl, and he raised his blade above his head; Jack copied him, thrusting his sword out in front of him.

The two immortals clashed in a flurry of snowflakes and sand, their auras twisting into another. As the two spirits touched, the ground beneath them split, sending stones flying in random directions. Their two weapons of choice smashed into another, the snowflakes cleared, showing the faces of the fighters.

Pitch Black’s face was a mixture of rage and cruelty, his eyes flashing in the half light.

Jack Frost was smiling slightly, determined to win. His eyes were also glowing a crystal blue and the light hid his pupils entirely, unlike the Boogeyman. Both spirits were panting heavily, clutching their weapons tightly with both hands.

With an outraged yell, Pitch was the first to move from the freeze frame, swinging his blade underneath Jack quickly, dancing out of range of his opponents weapon.

Jack stumbled forward and quickly jumped over Pitch’s low attack; growling, he tried to slice the Boogeyman’s back but missed, landing on the ground lightly.

“Stop trying, Frost!” Pitch taunted, swinging his blade again – Jack narrowly dodged the attack, sliding under the Nightmare King’s legs. Cartwheeling to the side, the spirit lunged forward again and this time successfully hit his opponent on the shoulder. Pitch hissed and kicked the winter spirit backwards before lunging himself. He missed Jack by inches, only because the wind had knocked his aim. The blade dig deep into the ground, creating more cracks in the rock.

“You really think you can stop me now?” Jack asked, laughter edging in his voice. He rolled out from under the Boogeyman and sprang to his feet again, only to duck as a sharp edge almost slit his throat. “Sorry, that won’t work.”

The two immortal’s charged forward again but Pitch, expecting this attack, sent a wave nightmare sand at Jack. The force of the blast shook the entire cave and sent the spirit through the stone wall and into a different chamber.

Buzzing filled Jack’s brain, and pain erupted from every limb in his body. His sword was still tightly in his hand, but buried under rubble. Dizzily, the spirit looked up and saw Pitch striding towards him, spinning his blade in his hand. Dimly, he reminded himself to never spin his staff in the same way again – it was extremely annoying. Jack tried to stand, but the amount of rubble littered on him combined with the pain invading his body, he could only manage to prop himself up on his arms.

Long, grey fingers wrapped themselves around his throat and lifted him effortlessly off the ground until his face was level with their owner’s thin smile and yellow eyes that flashed with amusement. Pitch said something else, but the buzzing still hadn’t left Jack’s ears and his vision was too blurred to read his lips. As the lack of air was finally pulling him to unconsciousness, the spirit looked over to where the fight had been – now it was just a pile of rubble, and in the centre there still was a smaller opening in the rock.

_North!_

Jack desperately searched for any sign of the guardian, but the dust didn’t give anything away.

_He can’t be, not after all this…no, no_

“No!” Jack created the ice-claws on his nails, longer and sharper this time, and scratched the Nightmare King’s face until he was forced to release his grip on the spirit. Jack instantly jumped to his feet; his sword now a staff once more, he blasted Pitch with a flurry of ice and frost. Yelling, the spirit then mercilessly flew towards the Boogeyman and hit his staff into his side, creating a loud cracking sound each time. Each hit stabbed frost into his opponent’s side, and a black liquid began to ooze from each wound.

Pitch, recovering from his shock, blocked the attack with a shield of sand before throwing the spirit backwards again. The shield turned into a collection of sharp icicles that were sent towards the younger immortal; Jack ducked to the ground, sending a stream of frost to freeze the Boogeyman in place.

Pitch, panting, turned the trail of ice into sand, and used it as a whip, slashing the spirit on the chest. Just as his attack ended, he was hit with a face full of ice, blinding him for a few valuable seconds.

Jack flew to the air again, wincing at the new wound that streaked down his chest, and hooked the Boogeyman around the neck, dragging him to the floor. His head made a loud crack as it hit the ground, which caused a smile to twitch on the spirit’s lips. Pitch lay unmoving in front of him covered in frost.

Breathlessly, Jack held out his sword in front of him, arms shaking out of exhaustion.

_I’ve done it…I actually won._

All he needed to do now was to stab the Nightmare King, ridding him from this word for a few decades at least.

Jack shot forward, raising his newly formed sword above him, aiming for the chest where his heart should’ve been. He figured that, as great as his staff was, he would need something sharper, something more damaging to kill Pitch Black.

The feather brushed against his cheek and the egg rattled comfortingly in his pocket. This was the end. He thrust the sword in front of him, powering it with everything he had…

Pitch’s eyes snapped open.

Jack wanted to stop, but it was too late. He watched in slow-motion as the Nightmare King grinned and effortlessly stood upright. He watched as he held his blade high into the air.

_No!_

The blade hit its target. Pitch laughed.

Jack screamed.

Blood filled his mouth and leaked through his surprised gasp, dripping steadily onto the stone below him. A pain seemed to burn though his entire body, making the spirit scream over and over again, tears pricking in his eyes. He looked down and saw that the blade had stabbed through his upper torso and his blood was now streaming down the weapon and onto the grey fingers of Pitch.

Pitch Black eyes were gleaming triumphantly, and his smile was wide and gleaming.

_No…this can’t be happening again! No!_

But it was. His vision was growing blurred and his breaths were failing him.

“I guess Santa won’t be delivering Christmas presents ever again, will he?” Pitch’s voice tainted as his consciousness faded. The pain was consuming him, blocking all of his senses. But somehow his words echoed around his mind, loud and clear.

“No Easter Bunny, no Tooth Fairy, no Sandman…” Jack coughed, blood dripping from his mouth. Pitch’s voice faded from his ears. “And no Jack Frost.”

“N-no…” Jack whispered, clutching his sword. He felt Pitch’s icy gaze pierce into him.

“What do you mean, no?” Pitch laughed. “You have no choice! You are finished!”

_Not yet._

“D-do y-ou want a-a t-t-tip?” Jack coughed again, feeling the pain intensify each passing second. Only a little longer…he needed only a few more seconds.

He didn’t hear Pitch’s answer. It didn’t matter.

“A-aim f-for t-the head…” Jack’s whisper was more of a gasp, and the Boogeyman wasn’t sure he heard right. In the confusion, the spirit raised the sword using the last of his strength.

Pitch let out a screech as the sharp blade made contact with his skull, dropping the spirit. For a few seconds the Boogeyman was frozen before, with another shriek that was more inhuman than the last, burst into a mixture of frost, and soon after all his nightmare sand did too.

 _It worked…_ Jack could feel the blood from his wound leaking faster now with no blade to halt it. It was a miracle he was still alive. _I…_

The spirit’s thoughts trailed into nothingness, his mind no longer able to function. He watched his blood form a steady path along the stone ground until his eyes grew hollow and glazed.


	32. Chapter 32

Randomly, Jamie sprang to mind as Jack lay on the ground, gasping. His entire body felt like it was on fire and the strong, metallic scent of blood was making him nauseous.

The child’s face broke into his mind suddenly, smiling with a gap in his teeth. The spirit numbly wondered what had happened to the child now – all of the events he had experienced since he woke up made him push Jamie from his mind, but now he had a burning passion to find out what happened to him. But he couldn’t.

He was dying.

No human on earth would be surviving this long, with a hole in their chest – they would be dead in a few seconds flat; however, the gift and curse of being immortal was the fact that it took longer for something to kill you, and it was much harder to die.

Because that is what Jack wanted now. Death. The pain was taking over his entire body, making each second agony. All he wanted to do was close his eyes, and wake up in whatever afterlife he would be in. Though he could feel himself dying now – properly – or what he guessed was dying. And, to be truthful, he was afraid.

Most humans and immortals alike, he noticed, would always brag about his they didn’t fear death, and would welcome it. Jack’s mind was split in two.

One half wanted to end the pain, and run towards whatever was next.

The other half was terrified of what was to come. It didn’t want to leave the world he found, or the life he had been given, or the guardians.

_The guardians._

_North._

Something clicked into Jack’s fogged brain, and his eyes shone a little brighter.

_North still isn’t saved. He’s still in there, chained up._

Something had given the spirit a reason to keep breathing for a few minutes longer, to keep his eyes open and fight the pain.

“N-N…North…” Jack gasped, digging his nails into the rock that now was covered in his and Pitch’s blood. Slowly, he moved so he was on his hands and knees, wailing in pain. He used one shaky hand to hold his wound, trying to prevent further blood loss, and the other he used to steady himself. Pushing back the pain that was shrieking from his chest, Jack tried to stand up, but could only get to his knees.

“N-N-no…I…” The spirit reached out with the blood soaked hand, abandoning the thought of stopping the blood flow, and reached out for his staff. Once he got stabbed, it had turned back into his original weapon, his power fading.

Sure enough, when the spirit clutched the crook it gave a weak flicker of light and a small coating of frost.

Jack propped himself up into a slumped stance, leaning heavily on his staff. The blood dropped rhythmically onto the cold stone beneath him, leaving a puddle.

After a few steps forward, the spirit’s legs crumpled beneath him, making him gasp, clutching his wound clumsily.

_No…no!_

“M-Moon…give me strength…” Jack let out the silent prayer, using his staff to pull himself up again. “J-just let m-me f-f-find him…please.”

—

North strained his neck, trying to catch sight of the familiar spirit, but could see nothing but a cave wall that had been blasted apart. He had not seen Pitch or Jack since the cave had collapsed, and now he longed to see the younger guardian again.

What terrified him most was the two screams that had echoed down the cave’s twisting tunnels and into North’s ears. Both screams, though different, sounded full of pain. The second scream however sounded more like an animal or nightmare than anything else, and North had matched it to Pitch Black – he wasn’t sure whether the Boogeyman had enough human in him left.

It was the first scream that was making his stomach do somersaults though – it was horrible to listen to. It was full of pain and fear; North had tried to hope that it couldn’t be Jack that let out a scream like that, but as the minutes crawled by with no noise, he was slowly seeing the truth.

He himself was fine – the rockfall had only bruised him slightly, as he had been sheltered by the curve of the cave. But, bound in chains, there was no way North could go and find Jack Frost, let alone get out of here.

A gasp pulled him out of his thoughts, followed by a scuffle. North quickly looked around and saw Jack slowly walking over to him, leaning on his staff. North couldn’t talk, but he managed to let out a sigh of relief. But that sigh was cut short on closer inspection.

The spirit seemed to be dragging himself rather than walking, using his staff as a cane. All his limbs were shaking with effort, and his hair blocked his eyes, hiding his facial expression. Plus, there was a dripping noise that had begun since his arrival, and it already was getting on the Cossack’s nerves.

The dark cave gave nothing else away about Jack, and North hoped that the spirit was exhausted.

The spirit reached out and began to undo one of the chains holding his wrist; he still hadn’t spoken yet, which was strange seeing as that was all he could do before the fight began. The dripping was louder now and faster, and North felt his stomach tighten.

The first chain fell to the floor, and North immediately undid the other one himself, pulling it off easily. The sand had definitely weakened – now it just crumbled in his hand, it’s sinister glow gone entirely. North pulled off his gag, ready to bombard Jack with questions, but his eyes widened as the spirit swayed alarmingly before falling to the ground.

“Jack!” North gasped, moving over to the fallen guardian. The light had grown stronger, and finally the Cossack could see all of the spirit. A smile twitched on his face as he recognised his old armour, but then turned to a frown as Jack let out a loud gasp of pain, followed by irregular breathing. North, on his hands and knees, crawled closer to the spirit, feeling his hand land on some warm liquid. Confused, he held it to the light.

Blood.

North’s words died in his throat as he froze in shock. The dripping, the strange metallic scent – how had he not seen this sooner? Quickly, the Cossack pulled off his coat and moved to Jack’s side.

“Jack…stay awake, Okay? Please.” North whispered. He now saw the wound, shadowed by the lack of light in the room. It had burnt through the armour into the spirit’s body. Out of all the injuries he had seen throughout his long life, though he didn’t want to admit it, this was probably the worst. He wasn’t even sure how Jack was still alive. Shaking his head, North pressed his coat onto the wound, pulling the spirit onto his lap, cradling him. Jack coughed, blood leaking out of his mouth, and his eyes slid out of focus.

“A-are you o-okay?” Jack asked in barely a whisper, letting his head tilt onto North’s lap. The Cossack forced himself to smile, holding back his tears, and nodded.

“I’m okay.” He answered, pressing harder on the wound. He could feel the blood seeping through the coat. Jack let out a small sound.

“Good.” He muttered, coughing again. North made a soft shushing sound, pulling the spirit tighter in his embrace, not wanting to let go. His mind flicked through possible ways to get back to the pole, but nothing would work without his equipment.

“Just…just hold on. Jack – open your eyes.” Sure enough, the spirit’s eyes had fluttered shut. With a great effort, Jack opened them again.

“I’m going to die, a-aren’t I?” Jack whispered, looking at North directly for the first time. A tear did escape then, though North promised himself that he wouldn’t cry. There was no point in trying to lie to the spirit.

“Yes, you are.” North said. It was true – unless they could go to the Pole, Jack would die.

The spirit let out a small gasp, his breaths becoming more irregular by the second.

“I-I just wanted t-to s-see all of us t-together again…” a small tear slid down Jack’s cheek that time, freezing on the side of his face. His eyes were growing full again, glazing over.

North blinked back the wave of tears that were threatening to spill uncontrollably – he wouldn’t cry in front of Jack. The Cossack shushed him gently again, wiping the frost from his cheek.

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t. North had nothing else to say to a dying child. “Don’t be afraid.” Jack let out a small cry, more blood leaking from his mouth.

“I don’t wanna die.” He whispered, breaths shortening. “I’m scared.”

“Dying is apart of life.” North looked down at the spirit, refusing to break eye contact. “There is no need to be afraid. You will be happy there. And one day we will join you – think of it as another adventure.” Jack smiled slightly, relaxing in his arms.

“Another…adventure…” Jack breathed. North hugged the spirit harder, hoping for some miracle. But none came. The Cossack nodded, unable to speak.

“Thank you…” Jack whispered before lying completely still. For a moment North froze, waiting for Jack’s chest to rise again.

But it didn’t.

North let himself cry then, holding the dead guardian in his arms, not wanting to let go. It seemed like the crying would never stop and consume him forever. The Cossack looked down at Jack and gently shut the spirit’s eyes that no longer shone with life. The movement caused something to roll out of Jack’s pocket, and it took a moment to for North to figure out what it was.

A snow globe.


	33. Chapter 33

North gently wrapped his coat around Jack’s still figure. The snow globe was glinting in front of him, mocking and jeering.

“Jack…I’m so sorry.” The guardian whispered, slouching. He brushed some white strands away from the spirit’s face. “I’m sorry that you had to live so long alone…and so shortly with us.” Another tear slid out of North’s eye and dropped onto the stone beneath him, followed by others.

“You did really well, my boy.” North carried on, keeping his gaze fixed on Jack’s face. “You managed to defeat Pitch and free all of us! You were so brave…you made me proud. And I’m sorry I never got to say that to you.” The older guardian sniffed loudly and wiped more tears from his eyes. He didn’t want to go back to the Pole yet. He didn’t want to see more grief from his comrades, and he didn’t want to bury Jack just yet. He still had things to say.

“Thank you for making me smile.” North continued, holding the spirit closer. “You always somehow managed to do that, didn’t you? I can’t thank you enough for bringing us all together. All of us guardians barely spoke to each other before you came, Jack. Did you know that? You gave us a reason to stay in contact.” Jack didn’t answer, but stayed still and lifeless in North’s arms.

“Thank you.” The Cossack wrapped the coat closer on the spirit. “For everything.”

Silence filled the cave as the guardian quietly grieved for the younger. The snow globe caught his eye again, but he ignored it.

He thought back to when times had been good – before the battle with Pitch. It was true what he said; Jack had somehow, amazingly, brung the guardians together.

At first it was just visits. Seeing as Jack didn’t actually have a home, North had quickly made a room for the spirit, decorated with snowflakes and ice. Jack loved it, and liked to sleep there every night if he could.

Sandy had been the second one to visit. He had wanted to know how North was doing when he saw the spirit in the hallway, chasing some elves that had stolen his cookies. They talked for a while, and from that day on Sandy liked to make time to visit at the Pole.

Bunny and Tooth came soon after with the same goals that the sandman had – loosing almost all of their believers was a huge blow, and they wanted to see if the Cossack had recovered. Jack worked his usual magic, and a few days later North was surprised to see Bunny running around the Pole, got on Jack’s heels with frost all over his fur.

Jack didn’t even realise what he was doing, which amused North. Jack was just being himself.

But now Jack was gone. No more laughter would echo down the halls of the Pole. No more times where Jack would watch North create toys. No more annoying, lovable winter spirit.

North didn’t realise how long he had been sitting beside Jack, lost in grief, until the silver rays of moonlight leaked into the cave. They briefly flicked across Jack’s still face before resting on the snow globe. North had a sudden urge to throw the ornament hard against a wall, but was stopped by a faint voice.

Hopefully, the Cossack’s eyes flicked down to the spirit in his arms, that hope dropped when he could tell that Jack was definitely dead, chest still and unmoving.

The voice spoke again, and this time North heard and recognised it immediately.

_“Nicholas.”_

“Man in Moon.” North muttered. The moon hadn’t spoken to him in years – probably decades – and the Cossack closed his eyes, wrapping the spirit closer.

_“Nicholas please don’t shut me out.”_

“You let this happen, Moon.” North whispered, feeling another tear escape from his closed eyelid. “You let this happen.”

_“I am sorry about Jack’s death. However, I cannot change the present. I could not change what was going to happen. Jack said to me that he was willing to give his life for another’s freedom…and he did.”_

“Please, just leave me be.” North sighed. “I know that you are not to blame, Moon, but right now I would like to be alone.” He apologised, keeping his eyes on Jack. The moon’s rays shone on the spirit’s face once more, before moving back to the snow globe.

_“Only a worthy guardian would give up his life for another, and Jack had done that. He is still worthy of his guardian title.”_

The snow globe suddenly began to glow a bright blue; North opened his eyes and saw that it also was patterned in white frost.

 _“Nicholas, are you willing to trust me once more?”_ The Moon asked, growing louder in volume. North hugged Jack against himself and stood up carefully, still keeping is gaze on the snow globe.

“What are you planning, old friend?” The guardian asked, walking closer to the small ornament.

_“Jack is still worthy of his guardian title. He had died so another could live – the greatest sacrifice. And so I am giving him back his title, Nicholas, and you must trust me. There are only a few hours until dawn.”_

“I have always trusted you, Moon – you know that. What is it you want me to do?” North asked, pulling the coat tighter into Jack.

 _“For now? Smash the snow globe and walk through the portal.”_ The Moon ordered; North nodded, moving the spirit so he was cradled in one arm. The guardian studied the globe for a few seconds before shattering it onto the ground. He then stepped through the portal.

—

The colours stopped swirling around him, and North found himself standing beside a lake that was covered in ice. In the centre of the lake, strangely, there was a hole as if someone had fallen in.

North held Jack tighter again and began to walk forwards. The moonlight was shining on the lake, giving it an eerie glow. The setting around him was familiar, and the guardian suddenly realised where he was.

Jack had only shown him this place once when he had asked where the spirit lived. Jack, unable to think of anywhere else, brought him here. Later, North asked the yeti to create a room for the spirit so he would never have to sleep outside again.

It was Lake Burgess, and for reasons Jack didn’t even know it was where the spirit spent most of his time before he met the guardians, freezing the lake and frosting the trees.

 _“This is where I first made Jack into a spirit, over three hundred years ago.”_ The Moon’s voice echoed in his head, _“This is where Jack Frost became Jack Frost.”_

North walked closer to the lake, letting his boots scuff against the light later of snow on the ground.

“What do you want me to to, old friend?” The guardian asked, stopping at the lake’s edge.

 _“Place Jack into the lake with his staff.”_ The Moon ordered. North, having the sense not to argue, slowly walked across the ice, towards the small hole in the centre.

“This will…help him?” North asked the moon, feeling hope leap in his chest. The moon didn’t answer, so the Cossack gently lay Jack down into the water.

“Good luck, Jack.” He whispered before taking a few steps backwards, watching as Jack disappeared from view, under the water and ice.

_“A guardian can die, Nicholas.”_

A sudden, bright light burst from under the ice, making North stumble backwards a few steps.

_“Everyone dies eventually.”_

The hole in the ice sealed itself with a weak layer of frost. North watched, fascinated.

_“But if a guardian gives their life for another…then they have proven their guardianship, and deserve to live and protect others once more.”_

The ice cracked. North held his breath.

Slowly, Jack rose out of the pond, staff held in one hand. He no longer had the armour on, but instead was wearing a new, blue hoodie that was covered in frost. His hair was now its previous length it had been and he had his brown trousers on – they also were coated in frost.

Jack opened his eyes suddenly and gasped, now floating upright. North heard the Moon chuckle in his head.

_“Once a guardian, always a guardian.”_

Jack landed on the ice, freezing it with his feet and looked around. North felt the strongest burst of joy he had ever experienced explode through him, and before he knew it he was walking towards the spirit.

Jack turned around and saw the older guardian; immediately his face broke into a grin.

“North!”

North felt his heart burst with pure happiness and he pulled the spirit into a tight hug. Jack returned it just as tightly, muttering:

“I missed you.”


	34. Chapter 34

“Jack!”

“North!”

“They’re back!”

Jack was quickly met with a flurry of feathers and colourful arms wrapped around his neck. Purple eyes met his, glinting with happiness, before shifting the the older man next to him.

“North!” Tooth practically screamed, pulling the Cossack into the hug. “Thank Goodness!”

“Tooth – ya gonna crush them!” Bunny’s voice came from behind the fairy, and the spirit saw, through the feathers, the grey-blue colouring of the Pooka’s fur.

“Hey, Kangaroo!” Jack said, voice muffled by the feathers. He heard Bunny laugh in amusement.

“You’re okay!” Tooth finally released her strong embrace, fluttering backwards a few inches. Jack saw that Sandy was standing beside Bunny, a smiley-face symbol above his head expressing his joy.

“Aster! Sandy! You here too! That iz good!” North boomed, laughing. Sandy nodded eagerly and floated higher to greet the Cossack; Bunny gave him a small wave, a smiling. Jack stood back slightly, letting the older guardians share the moment.

Jack yawned, stretching his limbs slightly. He thought back to before, thinking about what that strange man had said. The memory was a blur, but the man’s words still were buried in his mind.

“Oi Frostbite! Get over ‘ere!” The spirit looked up and saw that the four guardians were locked in a group hug. North was stretching his arm out, inviting him to join.

It wasn’t like Jack didn’t want to – heck, he would love to – but the fact still remained that he had never been in a group hug before. He had no clue what to do. So, Jack being Jack, tried to avoid it.

“Guys, I’m goo-“ before he could finish his well-rehearsed explanation, Sandy had caught Jack with a dream rope and tugged him into the group. North’s arm wrapped around his and he was pressed closer to everyone, feeling the other guardians close around him. And he found that he…

…liked it.

For the first time in his life he felt the warmth of another being close to him. He only hoped that his temperature wasn’t too cold.

The hug broke up after a few more seconds and Tooth’s eyes were brimming with tears. In fact, North’s were too, and Bunny was sniffing slightly.

“You never told me you found the others!” North boomed in his broken english, facing the spirit with a wide smile. Jack rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, twisting his staff in his hand.

“Sorry…I was a bit busy…” he apologised, unable to wipe the smile on his face. North laughed and slapped the spirit on the back hard enough to make him stumble.

“Iz fine. As long as you are fine.” North said quieter, and Jack nodded in response.

“I’m good.”

“What happened, anyway?” Tooth asked, noticing the small exchange. “Is Pitch gone?”

“Pitch won’t be coming back for a few centuries, in short.” Jack responded, grinning. North muttered something like “good riddance!” before gesturing for the other guardians to sit down. They had arrived in the Pole’s globe room, wanting to check the lights. Sure enough, when Jack looked up at the huge dome more lights were flickering on.

“It has been long day. And this iz a long story. Sit.” The Cossack invited, and the guardians took their usual seats. Nothing had changed.

Jack flopped onto the squashy chair, furthest from the fire, and let himself slump backwards, exhausted. North was right – it had been a long day. The spirit listened vaguely as North began the story, watching as he spread his arms out wide. He always had a way with stories which rivalled Jack’s own.

Laughing softly, the spirit let his thoughts drift, and again, he thought of the strange man in the field. He couldn’t even remember how he got there – one second he was in North’s arms, and the next he was in a huge field with white flowers. White flowers that were the same as the ones lying on his bed still.

Jack let his eyes flutter shut, no longer afraid about what may happen. It was over. It felt strange, not running around trying to save others: it had become so normal for him that it was almost uncomfortable. But it was over. And finally, he could get some rest.

—

“Man in Moon brought him back?!” Bunny said, almost shouting. North nodded, stroking his beard. “That’s…that’s not been done in millions of years…”

The guardians were listening intently to North’s account of what happened. Their once joyful expressions were now twisted in shock and curiosity.

“But he…died for you? For us?” Tooth sniffed, wiping her eyes. Bunny didn’t blame her. He could feel his own tears pricking in his eyes, though he was against it.

“Yes.” North looked down, deep in thought. “But for a few minutes, it was real…I don’t want to feel what I felt then ever again.” The Cossack quickly wiped a tear from his eye.

 ** _“Let’s just be glad that Jack is okay.”_** Sandy signed, gaining everyone’s attention. Out of instinct, all guardians looked over to their youngest member, who was…

…sleeping.

Jack was curled up on the couch, staff in one hand, snoring softly.

“Li’l Bugga’s gone and tired himself out.” Bunny said fondly. Tooth giggled quietly.

“Look at him! I’m glad he’s finally getting rest.” She said, smiling.

“Looks like he needed it.” North said, also smiling fondly. Sandy sprinkled some sand over the teen’s head, and they watched as it took the shape of dolphins.

“Always dolphins.” Tooth whispered.

 ** _“I think we should all get some rest. It has been tiring for us too.”_** Sandy yawned. **_“Personally, I’m knackered.”_**

“Good idea, Sandy!” North boomed, quickly getting shushed by Bunny and Tooth. Quieter, he added. “There are plenty guest rooms in Pole, no?”

—

Jack was in the field again. The white flowers were gently getting pushed by the warm breeze, and the spirit watched them for a while before finally deciding to pick one. The plant was warm in his hand, and glowed slightly at his touch.

“Did you make the right choice?”

Jack turned and saw the man again, staring at him. He was silver and smaller than the spirit, but had two large white eyes that each looked like a moon.

“Yes.” Jack answered, holding the flower close to his chest. “Yes I did.”

The man hummed, looking at the flower in the spirit’s palm.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” He said offhandedly, also picking one for himself. “They are called Oleanders. Very pretty, but very harmful.”

“And your point is?” Jack asked, stroking the flower petal. The man chuckled slightly, his eyes glowing brighter.

“There is no point in that, Jackson. It was just a nice fact.” The man walked further away from the spirit, placing the flower in his coat pocket.

“Do you know who I am, Jack Frost?” He asked after a long pause. Jack shook his head. “Do you know why you are here?” Again, Jack shook his head.

“My name is Tsar Lunar.” The man said, eyes blinking owlishly. Jack wrapped the flower around his staff.

“Is that name supposed to be familiar to me?” He asked, watching the man with interest. The breeze blew again, and the spirit relished the warmth brushing against his cheek.

“Only if you deem it too.” Tsar answered, looking back at the spirit. “Does it?”

“No.”

“Well then, it isn’t familiar to you.” The man stopped walking and stared at the landscape ahead. From what Jack could see, it was just more fields and flowers.

“You were brought here because you were at a crossroad, Jack Frost.” Tsar said. He gestured for the spirit. “Come.”

Jack walked over to where the man was standing, carefully avoiding the flowers. Tsar didn’t react to the movement, but kept staring in front of him.

“You were at crossroads, Jackson. You could choose.” Tsar continued.

“Choose what?” Jack asked holding the flower in his palm once more.

“What indeed.” The man answered, unblinking. A silence followed and Jack considered leaving to…wherever, but Tsar spoke just as his leg twitched.

“You could’ve stayed here.” Tsar Lunar gestured to the endless fields. “But you chose to leave. Why?”

Jack blinked, thinking about the question.

“They need me.” He whispered, stroking the flower. He paused. “And I…I need them. I’m not ready to leave them yet.”

Tsar nodded, smiling.

“You still don’t disappoint me, Jack Frost.”

Jack turned away from the landscape, walking across the field and away from the silver man. He suddenly paused mid-step.

“Why am I here this time?” The spirit asked, turning around. Tsar smiled.

“I thought you deserved an explanation. Otherwise you would’ve began to think that you were crazy.” The man turned his back to Jack, holding his hands behind his back. “Anyway, I have been babbling too long. It’s about time you woke up, Jack Frost. Until next time.”

—

Jack felt his eyes open, and found he was staring at the Pole’s ceiling. He turned to look at the globe, staring at the lights; his attention was brought to a certain one in Canada, which was shining the brightest.

_Could it be…_

The spirit sat up, stretching, and felt something brush against his side.

“What the…”

He blinked owlishly, holding up a white flower in his hand. It was quite beautiful, and it was warm to touch.

“Where did this come from?” Jack muttered. The flower looked familiar, but he couldn’t think why. Shrugging, he wrapped the long stem around his staff, freezing it into place. Satisfied with the look, the spirit stood up, moving to the window.

“I’m only going to Canada, they won’t miss me…they’re probably asleep right now.” Jack muttered, standing on the windowsill. In a flurry of snowflakes he was gone, soaring through the sky.

—

“Grandpa! Grandpa!”

Jack landed softly on the ground, amazed at the small children in front of him.

They could _see_ him.

Two of them had their mouths open in shock after seeing a person fall from the sky, and the last child had screamed in delight, running for her “grandpa”

The children were obviously siblings; all had matching brown eyes with various shades of brown hair. The boy staring at him suddenly broke into a smile, jumping in delight.

“You’re Jack Frost! Your Jack Frost!” He yelled happily, and his sister joined in, running around his legs.

“Hey…slow down!” Jack laughed, crouching. The children stopped, breathless, staring at the spirit.

“Is it true that you can make pretty snowflakes?” The boy asked, eyes shining. Jack grinned and flicked his hand, creating a small group of snowflakes. The children gasped as the spirit placed a larger one in each of their hands, grinning.

“Grandpa! Look! It’s Jack Frost! He looks just like you said!”

The last, and oldest, sibling came running forwards, her hair tangled and in her face.

“Grandpa!” The two younger children turned, one hanging onto Jack’s sleeve. Jack stood up, watching as a man came forward, getting tugged by the children. Jack’s breath caught in his throat and a grin spread across his face. The older man was wearing a grin to rival it, eyes lightening up at the sight of the spirit.

Sure, his hair was now grey, his was creased and he moved more stiffly, but Jack could only see the child he had spend hours on end with, playing in the snow.

Jamie.

“You took your time.” Jamie joked.

“I got caught up in some things. But I’m free now.” Jack gave him a mischievous look. “A good time for a snowball fight.”

“I would like that.”

****


End file.
